Irreverence Is My Superpower
by Silent Journey
Summary: Darcy Lewis didn't have superpowers. Unless you counted speed texting, inappropriate commentary, or the ability to find the best iced mocha. None of those did you a lot of good during an alien incursion. Now she's in Stark Tower with some of the strongest and smartest people on the planet. What happens when she becomes far too attached to more than one of those same people?
1. Chapter 1

Darcy Lewis did not have superpowers. Not unless you counted speed texting, inappropriate commentary, or the ability to find the best iced mocha in town. Unfortunately none of those did you a lot of good during an alien incursion. Which is why Darcy Lewis had been happy to find herself thousands of miles away when New York was attacked. Of course she'd already been through the whole 'aliens are real! OMFG!' in New Mexico. But that had been slightly different considering that Thor, her first honest to god alien, had been built like...well a god. His friends hadn't been bad either. Especially Sif. (Yeah, she'd tap that.)

The giant black robot of death hadn't been quite so fun but it had been a one-on-one deal (unlike New York where it rained alien menace like confetti). Thankfully she hadn't been the one who had to do the fighting because even with her trusty tazer she was woefully underweight for that match. Thor had handled it. And though he hadn't come back right away, Darcy had believed he would and stuck by Jane. She had followed Jane to England and stayed through another alien incursion. (Didn't aliens have somewhere better to vacation than Earth?) She even followed Jane back to the currently-under-construction-New-York when Stark Industries had offered the astrophysicist a gig.

Which was how Darcy found herself standing at the main entrance to the Stark Tower. She was just standing there, staring at the glass doors and probably making security nervous, but she couldn't make her feet take that next step. This was it. Big leagues. She was going to be surrounded by superheros, spies, assassins, gods, and aliens. She didn't have a problem with the fact that they were stronger, smarter, faster, deadlier...everything with an -er. No the problem was that Darcy Lewis, flippant comment master, wasn't actually as flippant as she appeared. She respected, admired, and cared about these people. Even if she hadn't personally met some of them yet. There was a reason she a political science major after all. She wanted to impact the world, leave it a little better. Her biggest dreams had been about being a motivating force behind whichever Congressman (or woman) would truly change policy. Maybe she would even follow him (her!) to the White House someday. She wasn't planning on sitting in the Oval Office herself. Her mouth was too quick to get her in trouble and her past wasn't the kind that lended itself to candidacy.

None of her dreams had included working for a genius billionaire or with people who where changing the world and making it better in real-time.

Deep breath, Lewis, she advised herself.

As she approached the door, it swung open and was held by a man in a security uniform. "Ms. Lewis," he queried.

"Yep, that's me," she said, producing her patented nothing-troubles-me-grin.

The guard was not immune and smiled back warmly. "Mrs. Potts informed us you were coming. Did you need help finding your way?"

Immediately, Darcy's opinion of the famous Pepper Potts jumped about 10 points. She was already pretty high in the scale but this was above and beyond anything Darcy had anticipated. "What's your name, big guy," she asked, knowing that she had a little extra pep in her step now as she followed him into the main lobby.

"Arnold, ma'am."

"Well, Arnold, that would be just terrific."

Arnold gave her another smile and led her toward the security desk where he explained he was going to give her a temporary security badge until she was added to the system. Ten minutes later, Darcy was calling him Arnie and telling him to look her up on Facebook so she could send him the links for those books his kids might be interested in. He assured her that he would as he ushered into an elevator and pressed the correct button for her.

"Good luck," he called as the doors slide closed. Arnie was good people, and Darcy was hoping that meeting him was a good omen for how the rest of the day was going to go.

When the elevator doors slid open Darcy was greeted by a stunning view and an empty room. A tiny spark of disappointment flickered through her but she squashed it. Superheros, remember? They were probably off fighting some super-villian and his giant killer gorillas which made it impossible for anyone to be there to greet her. As she stepped out and down the two steps into the main area a voice called out from vaguely to her right.  
She couldn't hear what was said but the tone spoke of frustration and the voice was definitely male. Following the sound she found herself in a fully outfitted kitchen that gleamed with stainless steel and acres of counter space. The voice must have come from the rooms only occupant, a spectacular occupant if the view of his tight ass was any indication. She opened her mouth to call out a greeting but snapped it shut when she heard him speak.

"I am going to hurl you off the roof if you do not cooperate." It was said with such frustration and malice that Darcy almost took a step back. Jesus, this guy was not kidding around. She was trying to think how many steps it would take for her to be back on the elevator when she realized that all the mystery man's venom was directed at the microwave. Her eyebrows rose in fascination and amusement. Again she opened her mouth to quip but an oh-so-proper-and-put-upon British accented voice rang out from above interrupting her.

"May I suggest allowing me to operate the microwave for you?"

"No," the blonde pronounced, straightening his shoulder to military precision as if he was preparing to charge into battle. And god what a beautiful view that made. "I know how these things work. The one at my apartment had less buttons but I'll be damned if I let Stark's excessive appliances get the best of me."

He looked so adorably frustrated that she felt an 'aww' rising in her throat.

"Very well, Captain Rogers," the disembodied butler sighed with resignation.

That was when Darcy's mind finally clicked the puzzle pieces together. .god. Its Captain America! She had been staring at Captain America's ass while he contemplated murdering the microwave (micro-cide?). Not that she really felt that guilty about staring at his ass. Those buns were definitely worth the price of admission. And even if he couldn't get his food heated, she felt like something was cooking in the kitchen with how warm her cheeks (and other parts) felt.

She must have made some sort of sound, because the star-spangled beefcake tensed and turned in her direction. "Hello," Darcy offered lamely with a little half wave and a sheepish smile.

He said nothing in return. His stare said enough though. Arms folded across his chest, he screamed suspicion and Darcy supposed he had a right to be. He was a soldier and used to dealing with spies and assassins, and she was an unknown element.

Darcy however was not one to be cowed even by that intimidating face. She mentally took a breath then jumped in. "Having a bit of a problem?" She didn't give him a chance to answer as she pulled her bag off her shoulder and deposited it on the counter. "Well no worries. I am an expert with unruly microwaves." Pushing up her sleeves, she sidled around the glowering defender of earth. "Even had to hog-tie one once, but it came to heel eventually." She swore there was a spark of amusement in his eyes at that but it may have only been her imagination. Making a big show of lining up directly in front of the wayward appliance, she studied the many settings and buttons. The light inside was on, highlighting a bag of popcorn. "Aha, no wonder you're having trouble. Popcorn is the hardest thing to get them to take on the first go. Always better to start with something easy like a hotdog. All the best wranglers will tell you that."

She couldn't see him from her current position, but she thought she heard a soft chuckle.

Moving slowly, as if not to startle the unresponsive machine, she gently pressed the appropriate buttons. When the low sound of the motor started and the bag inside began to rotate, she slowly took a step back still playing out her schtick.

She hadn't anticipated how close her audience had been standing, as she ran right up against him. For a split second she froze. He was a solid wall of muscle and wouldn't it be so much fun to see if every appendage was as solid as his chest.

She jumped forward and spun to face him, trying to keep the blush from her cheeks. Bad Darcy, she told herself. Bad bad Darcy...but god that had felt good.

"Sorry about that," she said, throwing up her hands and trying not to look him in the face. Was it even possible for her to have made a worse first impression?

Now he laughed. It wasn't malicious. It was gentle and warm and genuine. Looking up at his face she saw honest amusement there. "Not a problem," he said dropping his arms to his sides. "I should thank you for helping me. I've never seen a..." The pause was significant enough that Darcy had a second of panic. "...wrangler with your style before."

It was her turn to give him a genuine smile.

"Steve Rogers," he said extending a hand. She grabbed it without hesitation.

"Darcy Lewis," she offered.

"Well Ms. Lewis what brings you to Stark's ostentatious abode? Besides being the resident wrangler."

She laughed. "Not gonna let that one go are ya, Rogers," she queried.

"No, ma'am." And he smirked. Smirked! She made Captain America smirk. Damn non-disclosure agreements. That smirk would have been hitting her feeds in ten seconds flat if Ms. Potts hadn't forced those forms on her. The smile on her face was probably dopey but she didn't even care. She was in Tony Stark's kitchen joking around with Captain America. Dopey smiles were totally acceptable.

"Captain Rogers, your popcorn appears to be ready." The voice startled her a bit, but it only made Rogers' smirk grow.

"Thank you, Jarvis." Darcy may have been imagining things. Maybe. But she would swear on her sacred iPod that Steve Rogers purposely invaded her space as he went to retrieve his popcorn. She moved back to give him more room as he poured the snack into a big bowl. She was fascinated as she watched him lift a few kernels to his mouth. Jesus fucking Christ, those lips looked like a way better snack than the popcorn. She swallowed trying to wet her suddenly dry throat.

Casting around for some topic of conversation that would get her mind away from the fantasies about what she could do with those lips, she remembered his question. "I'm Dr. Jane Foster's assistant. Your basic lab monkey. Nothing special, but because Jane is staying here in the tower as part of the package Tony offered her, I got attached to the deal too. Just think of me as the appendix of the science department." She had meant it jokingly...mostly. But the frown that Rogers was sporting told her she may have missed her mark. Or maybe he could read her better than she counted on.

Either way she was saved from whatever he was gearing up to say, but the unseen Jarvis. "Ms. Lewis, Sir left instructions for you to be informed when Dr. Foster arrived. She is currently on her way to the lab."

"Um, thanks Jarvis," she said. "Can you tell me how to get to the lab from here please?"

"It would be my pleasure, Ms. Lewis. If you would please follow the blue lights." Darcy looked down to see a track of blue lights leading back toward the way she came. Gathering up her bag, she threw the still munching super solider a smile over her shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Rogers."

His smile was slow but still warm. "Nice to meet you too, Ms. Lewis."

As she made her way back to the elevator, she couldn't help smiling. Life in Stark Tower was definitely going to be an adventure. If nothing else the eye-candy was totally worth it. So long as she could remember that eye-candy was not for tasting...or licking...or biting...

Bad Darcy, she reprimanded herself again. Bad, bad Darcy.


	2. Chapter 2

Darcy was fairly certain that Stark's ten floors of R&amp;D were what Jane's wet dreams looked like. Well maybe not _all _her wet dreams. The astrophysicist did have Thor to keep her warm at night.

Following the blue light trail that Jarvis laid out for her, Darcy had found herself in what was going to be Jane's new lab. It was fully stocked with everything an inter-dimensional researcher needed including a coffee bar and lounge area in the corner with couches and chairs comfortable enough that Darcy was sure they could double as beds. That wasn't really something to be happy about, considering that Jane would assume a nap in one of those would be sufficient to meet Darcy's '4 hours of sleep minimum per 24 hours' rule. She made a mental note to re-evaluate her lab rules before Jane could get too entrenched. Getting Jane out of the lab could be about as difficult as getting gum out of your hair... Hold up! The god of the thunder with the flowing locks might just be her solution to that problem. At least if he was planning on sticking around. He had been a little vague on that point up to now.

Contemplating how to get Thor to manipulate his 'fair Midgardian maiden', Darcy approached the huddle of scientists that were looking over some type of shiny equipment. On closer inspection she recognized the one with his back to her as none other than Tony Stark, her new landlord and boss. Darcy had met him once before during her one face-to-face meeting with Ms. Potts. He had swaggered in, while Pepper tried to conduct the interview, complaining about the speed of construction on the Tower. (At the time, he had ignored her, though he had flipped through her file when Pepper placed it in his hands.)

"The whole thing links into the telescope on the roof and the facility upstate," he was saying to a rapt Dr. Foster. "Jarvis can control both for you or you can handle them manually. Whatever gets your rocks off." His tone was proud with a coating of sarcastic. A combination that Darcy recognized well.

While Tony continued to expound on the many benefits of the lab he had designed, Darcy took a second to try to place the third member of the huddle. He was a decent looking man. Cute, in a rumpled professor kind of way. He looked familiar but Darcy couldn't figure out why. After a moment he looked up as if he had felt her stare and studied her over the top of his glasses. Darcy couldn't help but smile kindly. He threw off this uncertain aura that made her want to hug him. Bashful men with big brains held a certain soft spot in her heart.

Another cutie in the tower, she thought. Though he certainly didn't heat her up like America's golden boy, he was decent looking. He brought out that streak of protective sister feelings just like Foster.

He didn't seem as interested in listening to Stark as Jane did. When he rolled his eyes at Tony's "of course, because I'm a genius" response to one of Jane's questions, Darcy figured he must have heard this same spiel before. He skirted around Tony's gesturing and approached with a shuffling step. When he was close enough, he gave her a nod in greeting, but didn't offer his hand. She wondered if he was shy or if he had a thing about touching other people or something. Either way Darcy Lewis, wrangler extraordinaire, wasn't going to be satisfied with only a nod.

Sticking out hand she took a step toward him. "Hello there. I'm Darcy Lewis. I'll be the one bringing you coffee, heating your pop-tarts, and enforcing bedtimes. Do not expect me to understand more than one in ten words when you start talking shop though."

The man took her hand but it seemed more out of habit and social politeness than a real desire to. At least at first. The more words that poured out of her unstoppable mouth, the firmer his grip became and the wider his smile. "Ah, Ms. Lewis. Dr. Foster has mentioned you. I'm Bruce. It's very nice to finally meet you."

Now she recognized him! Christ-on-a-cracker! Of course, this was _that _Bruce. The one with the giant green alter-ego. Excitement brightened her smile but she didn't let any other signs of her thoughts show on her face. She had a feeling he would not take her general enthusiasm for meeting him in the right way. Ever meticulous, Pepper had mentioned Dr. Banner would prefer not to discuss aspects of the Hulk in her orientation since the man would be living in close proximity.

"Well, Bruce," she said quickly to prevent any uncomfortable pauses. "Is Stark planning on talking about his genius all day or is there anything else on the agenda?"

"I heard that, Lewis," a snarky voice called from over Bruce's shoulder. He swaggered over, trying for a stern look that Darcy didn't believe for a second. "You know its not good talk about your boss behind his back. Could get you in all sorts of trouble."

Darcy could play this game. "Well its a good thing you're not my boss then."

Stark seemed surprised, like he hadn't expected the puppy he was poking to bite him. "How's that now?"

She tried not to laugh at his outright confusion. Tony Stark was one of those people that always thought he had the upper hand. To be able to throw a wrench in his cogs tickled her pink. "I'd heard a lot about you, Mr. Stark. And after expressing my concern, Ms. Potts assured me that I report to her." (Stark didn't need to know that Ms. Potts had also listed him as one of her bosses, but that it would take Pepper's approval to have her fired. Nor that Ms. Potts hired her on with the secondary objective of watching over Stark when he got into his manic inventing moods.)

Stark's lips pressed together and his brow crinkled while he let that percolate. The bashful Bruce beside him had one arm crossed over his chest supporting the hand that was cover his mouth and the laughter that was threatening to spill out.

"I like you Lewis," he finally declared with a nod. "And since I'm not your boss I'll be having none of this Mr. Stark business." He waved vaguely as if to brush the title away. "Call me Tony."

Offering her hand in truce, she nodded in agreement. "Tony." She had feeling they were going to get along fine.

The rest of the day seemed to fly by. Tony did indeed have more things on the agenda. They toured all ten floors of R&amp;D. Then up to the roof to inspect the telescope that sat where Loki's portal making machine had once resided. After that came what Tony called the "unwashed masses" levels, which somehow encompassed restaurants, shops, and offices. Then it was back up the elevator to the "Avenger levels". Some of these were still under construction but she could see the potential. When everything was finished it was going to be a pretty sweet set-up with room for more than just the six Avengers to live comfortably.

The very last stop on Tony's whirlwind tour was the floor which would become her home. There was a good sized entry way and two halls. Tony pointed to the one on the right and informed her that Jane and Thor had a four bedroom suite and he'd even included a "romper room" for Thor. Of course when he said romper room he did it was suggestive eyebrow wiggle and smirk.

Darcy rolled her eyes and surprisingly Tony relented. "I have no idea what thunder gods do for fun besides as Steve put it 'calling the lightning' so once Muscles moves in he can decide what to do with it." There was no snappy come back from the ever-flippant Darcy Lewis. Maybe the Tin Man had a heart after all.

"Lab monkeys are on the left," he said throwing a thumb in the general direction of the other hall as he turned and headed back to the elevator.

Or maybe his heart had rusted over.

Bruce bowed out with Tony, and though he did so silently he threw her a smile that assured Darcy she was definitely going to have a friend in him.

Jane and Darcy stood still until the elevator doors were securely shut and the car had risen. Then Darcy released the reins on her inner fan-girl that she had been holding in all day. "Oh. My. God." She told Jane turning to look at her friend and mentor. Jane nodded, that same gazed look of the overwhelmed in her eyes. "Oh my god! Oh my god, Jane," she said, each syllable climbing in pitch and volume.

"I know," Dr. Foster finally offered. "I know!"

"ohmygodohmygodohmygod!" They had grabbed hands and were jumping up and down like children on their way to Disney. "iknowiknowiknowiknow!"

Only lack of oxygen made Darcy throttle down. "We spent the day with Tony Stark! I met Bruce Banner! And I got literal 'full contact' with Captain America."

"I know - wait, what?" Jane looked at her with concern. "What do you mean full contact?"

Darcy straightened herself up and gave Jane a haughty look over her glasses. "Details are only for those who help unpack boxes, Dr. Foster." Jane laughed but she dutifully followed Darcy down the hall.

An hour later, the basics were unpacked. Basics being Darcy's music collection, her stereo, the wine glasses, nail polish, and her laptop. A girl couldn't live without the basics. While the wine (a gift left on the counter of her kitchenette courtesy one Pepper Potts) slowly disappeared, Darcy pumped Jane for info on their new housemates (tower-mates?). The astrophysicist had been here for a few days though she had not had access to the lab until this afternoon.

It turned out that Rogers was only visiting, and would be leaving in a few days. (Darcy tried not to feel disappointed, but who was she kidding. She had totally been hoping to get to know the man behind the shield a little better.) Bruce was planning on staying. Tony had been true to his word and built the scientist his own customized Hulk-sized lab with a panic room in back to contain any "green-tinted temper tantrums" (Tony's words). Stark was planning on splitting his time between the tower and Mailbu where Pepper was based. The pair of assassins, that neither of them had met, were unaccounted for at present.

"What about Thor," Darcy inquired as she concentrated on getting the perfect amount of polish on her pinkie toe. There was a longer pause then she was expecting and when she lifted her head there was the unflappable Dr. Foster with a blush crawling across her cheeks. "Jane!"

The older woman turned her head away embarrassed. "He's going to stay." Her voice was soft and filled with more emotion than she probably intended. Darcy could only smile as she turned back to her task. She wouldn't push it right now. The thing between Thor and Jane was still too new, too fragile. And as much as Darcy didn't believe in love for herself she knew under that big brain Jane was definitely built for the kind of old-fashioned love Thor was likely to offer her.

Leaning back on the ratty couch she refused to upgrade, she inspected her work. Not bad. In fact the same could be said of the whole day. Not bad indeed.

* * *

The cold was receding as he woke. It burned and stung as he thawed, but he knew better than to call out. They told him weakness like that was unnecessary. Anything unnecessary had been purged long ago.

He didn't bother to open his eyes or to speak. He could tell exactly how many people were in the room and where they were by sound alone.

The door open and felt the way everyone came to attention. This new presence was important. A leader. One of his owners. One who held his leash.

"Hail Hydra."


	3. Chapter 3

Steve Rogers was a man out of time. That was a fact of life now. One he couldn't escape. It wasn't the big things like the cell phones and tablets that made this fact so starkly clear. It was the little things. Those details that had always hummed in the background. Things a man wouldn't even notice until they were gone leaving only the silence of his memories.

After New York he'd jumped on his bike and toured a bit, trying to fill that silence, but the old music he heard in his dreams taunted him. This new century was amazing in some ways. The advancements that had been made were astounding. Yet the things that had been lost, the things he had thought would last, were harshly absent. It made his soul ache.

A few weeks later, he was back in the city helping with the clean-up, having given up on his touring, when Stark had seemingly materialized beside him. "What's up, Cap," he queried in greeting.

"Stark."

"Awww. We back to that again." His tone was part whining child and part disappointed. It made Rogers realize his own tone may have been a bit terse.

Dropping the wheelbarrow he was using to haul debris, he faced Tony and tried again. "Hello, Tony. What brings you down from the tower?"

Tony gave him a delighted smile. "You make me sound like a princess, Cap. You trying to hint that you think I'm royalty? Cause I wouldn't mind it. But I've already had Jarvis run the genealogy and the closest my roots get to the aristocracy is a third or fourth cousin who works in Buckingham."

Shaking his head, Rogers smiled. "No. I wouldn't think to give you any more delusions of grandeur. I figured you had enough on your hands rebuilding your own place, is all I meant."

Even before the serum Rogers had been a tactician. The serum had only enhanced it. Which is why he knew Tony had something sneaky up his sleeve when he lit up at the bare mention of rebuilding.

"Well actually Cap, that's sorta what I'm here about. Fancy coming to take a look at my tower." Somehow Stark made even that sentence seem lewd with double entendre, but Steve ignored the eyebrow wiggle.

"I'm not finished for the day..." Tony's face fell. "But I'll stop by when I wrap up." The concession had made Tony smile brightly and for a brief second Steve could see Howard in his face. Another dusting of salt in his wounds. Then it was gone and there was only Tony.

In reality, Rogers could have called it quits anytime. Everyone here was a volunteer and they were all encouraged to call it a day when they were tired. Though he left well before he was tired, he was always the last one to turn in his equipment. He made no exception for Tony. When he returned his shovel and wheelbarrow to the foreman, he had a brief thought of going back to the cramped hotel room he'd rented. It would be quiet and he wouldn't have to deal with Tony's constant stream of conversation. But he had told Tony he was coming and Rogers never went back on his word. Plus he had been feeling a bit lonely in this new century, not that he would tell Tony that.

Foregoing the helmet tied on the back (as always), he got on his bike and headed toward Stark Tower.

This was the one time when Rogers actually felt the age he looked in the mirror. When he was on the bike, blazing down highways or back roads at speeds that might have killed him if he made a miscalculation, he could only feel the adrenaline and wind. The shadows couldn't keep up with him. He had yet to crash the machine, but even if he did, the indomitable Captain America would probably survive. Rogers didn't like to think about that.

The Tower was a monument to Tony's genius. Also a stroke to his ego. Neither of those facts surprised Rogers. What did surprise him was how easily he got along with Tony once he relaxed. He could handle most of Tony's sarcasm and snark if he listened for the underlying meaning instead of taking things at face value. The two talked for a long time over a shared bottle of scotch and though he couldn't get drunk, he could appreciate the smooth burn. The bottle was probably worth more than Rogers' bike, not like anything from his Army days, but he tried not to dwell on it as he drank two for every Tony's one. Banner joined them at some point in the evening. He turned down Tony's offer of a tumbler claiming that he didn't trust himself with lowered inhibitions. Rogers was secretly grateful. He trusted Dr. Banner, but the Hulk was a different manner.

It wasn't long after Bruce joined them that Tony finally got around to his endgame. "I want to make this a base for us. The Avengers. We all know SHIELD can't be trusted." He had paused at that, all three of them thinking of what had happened in the Helicarrier. "So we should have our own little hideaway. A man cave. Well except for Natasha. Nah, I take that back. Definitely a man cave. Natasha counts as a spy, not a girl, so man cave," he pronounced it like he was naming his first child. Bruce rolled his eyes but didn't bother to dispute Tony's claim. Rogers followed suit.

Somehow, even in his inebriated state, Tony had been able to talk him around to staying for a while. With nothing pressing in his future except working for SHIELD, Rogers agreed. D.C. would still be standing when he got there in a few weeks. It had lasted 70 years without his help while he was under the ice. The thought had put him back in a sour mood, but he didn't let it show as he helped Bruce cart Tony to his room to sleep it off.

Later, when he lay on an unfamiliar bed in a guest room, he let the darkness consume him. For a moment he would be Steve again. Skinny kid from Brooklyn. Not Captain America. Not America's golden boy. He would rage against the universe. Only for tonight, he told himself. And he would wish that he hadn't made it out of the ice.

* * *

The morning light found Captain Rogers in a better state of mind. His good mood lasted through his volunteering and even through Tony's snark. In the darkness of the night, when he lay alone, his good mood faltered. Everything good was gone.

The pattern remained the same for nearly two weeks, but Rogers said nothing. He couldn't. He was well aware that if SHIELD got wind of his current mental turmoil they would have him locked up and in therapy. A sneer fitted to his lips at the last word. Captain America was not going to therapy.

When Dr. Foster arrived, Rogers was happy of the company. He had never been all that smooth with dames, but Dr. Foster was a colleague and she was smitten on the Asgardian member of the team, so talking to her was fairly easy. It felt like when he had first met Peggy. Jane and Peggy were both competent, intelligent women who had no need to be coddled. They went after what they wanted without help. After making the correlation, Rogers couldn't shake it. Thoughts of Peggy, and where she was now, burned in the back of his mind every time Dr. Foster was around.

When the "grand opening" (as Tony called it) for Jane's lab came around, Rogers was happy to be ignored by the scientific trio. His plan had been to take a day for himself. Maybe get started on learning about the things on his growing list, starting with some of the movies Tony had been insistent were essential to culture. He had been working at different volunteer stations every day since he had come back to New York. One day wasn't too much to take for himself. (Even if his conscious prickled a little, he ignored it.)

That was how he had ended up threatening the microwave when one Darcy Lewis appeared.

Captain Steve Rogers was not immune to the quick punch of desire that shot through him when he saw Ms. Lewis for the first time. (Not that he was ever going to admit that.) But Captain Steve Rogers was on a team with one of the most beautiful and deadly women in the world, and he knew better than to think a pretty face meant a person was harmless.

When Darcy had plunged ahead even in the face of his stare, he had felt a spark of admiration for her brazenness. Amusement grew in his chest and on his face as he watched her handle the appliance like a frightened animal. Steve had to fight hard to keep the amusement from slipping when she rubbed up against him. Though the contact was brief, and she jumped away as if he'd burned her, he had felt it profoundly. It had been innocent certainly. Darcy Lewis was nothing if not genuine. Yet he found his mind tripping down paths that were far from innocent.

The light stain to her cheeks had been intriguing and he wondered what would make that color darken. He gave a laugh, partly at himself, and allowed his own wit to peek out. Her bright smile, when it came, only fed into his impure thoughts. When she took his hand in greeting he resisted the urge to rub his thumb over her soft skin. With Peggy, respect had come first and desire followed. Darcy had things rushing at him one after another.

Damn. Was this how Bucky had felt with all those dames he'd lined up for them both? Bucky... Rogers braced himself for the shaft of pain that came whenever he thought of his best friend but this time it felt muted. It might have been because of the unapologetic smile on Darcy's face reminded him of the good times he'd had with Bucky, or maybe because the vivacious woman in the kitchen was treating him like a normal man.

Jarvis kept him from staring at her too long. As he moved past her to retrieve his popcorn he couldn't help stepping closer than was necessary to get a deep whiff of the musky scent she wore. Popping a few pieces into his mouth, he caught the way she watched intently. He had seen that look more than a few times since the serum. More in this new century than back in the war, though even then. Mostly he ignored it as he rarely returned the sentiment. Maybe this time though…

He never finished the thought as her self-deprecating words cut through his brain. The way she spoke about herself wasn't right, even if she was only a "lab monkey" as she said. He wasn't able to express his displeasure due to Jarvis' timely interruption.

Though her words were still on his brain, he felt his lips curl in a warm smile when she said goodbye. That smile may have given away his attraction...or perhaps not. It was hard to tell. He definitely needed more practice if he had finally found someone worth pursuing.

Slow down Rogers, he cautioned himself. He wasn't even completely sure if Darcy was interested. Or if _he_ was really interested. It appeared she was going to be living in the Tower, which meant he would have time to probe this new development before making a move. D.C. could definitely wait a few more weeks.


	4. Chapter 4

The crash startled Darcy out of sleep. Instinct had her rolling out of bed. On the furthest side of the bed from the door she lay on her stomach, listening intently while her pulse pounded in fear. What if it was another attack? What if Tony had finally pissed off the wrong people? What if...

"Lady Darcy! Are you within?"

The voice was unmistakable. "Oh my fucking ...THOR!" Darcy was not amused. The thunderhead had scared the crap out of her. Witnessing three alien invasions (two first-hand) and living in a building owned by the most publicly prominent (and easily located) Avenger made Darcy's instinctual dive for cover completely legit. Still she was happy that no one had seen it. Untangling her feet from the sheets, she rose to go find the golden haired god. There may have been threats of selling nude pics of him to the tabloids muttered under her breath as she threw open the bedroom door, but as soon as she saw his stupid grin she knew she could never follow through. (Besides she was sure that if she did Jane would kill her in some way undetectable by science, and she would end up on one of those late night mysterious murder shows.)

"Have I woken you," thunderhead asked, probably taking in her bed head and disgruntled look.

Darcy rolled her eyes and choose not to answer. Her synapses weren't firing enough to temper her mouth, and if she snapped at Thor too harshly she would feel like she kicked a puppy.

Coffee was needed before anything else. Trudging to the kitchenette she realized that in her haste to get to the essentials last night she had never actually unpacked her most sacred coffee maker. Her head hit the counter with a soft thud while she moaned like a dying thing.

Thor was instantly concerned. "Lady Darcy? Are you well? Shall I call for Jane?"

"Coffee," she wailed in the most pathetic way she could muster.

"Do you have some ailment that this drink will cure," he asked, distressed on her behalf.

"Yes!"

"I shall procure some immediately." Darcy straightened in time to see him hurry out the door. She sighed, knowing that he was likely to get into trouble before he actually located a cup of coffee.

It appeared she wasn't the only one thinking that when Jarvis spoke up. "Ms. Lewis, may I suggest advising Mr. Odinson how to retrieve your coffee before he injures himself?"

With another sigh she agreed. "Yeah, I'm on it Jarvis." She adjusted her pajama top as she headed for the the door.

"May I also suggest, Ms. Lewis, that you use the coffee bar on the main floor until you are able to locate your own machine? It is mostly automated and I can have a cup prepared for you before you arrive."

She froze in the doorway, throwing a pathetically grateful look to where she knew a camera was located. "Oh my god, Jarvis, you are my new best friend. Call me Darcy, 'kay?

Though she knew that Jarvis was purely computer code she thought he sounded pleased by her request. "As you wish, Darcy."

It wasn't hard to find Thor. All she had to do was following the booming sound of his voice. "Lady Darcy is my lightning sister. We must cure her immediately!"

Darcy couldn't hear Jane's reply but she knew it probably wasn't flattering. Stepping into Jane and Thor's suite she braced herself for a long day.

Two hours and three cups of coffee later (don't judge, she needed it), Darcy was in Jane's lab setting up her workstation. She wouldn't be doing most of the experimentation or hands-on bits, but she would be compiling data and reports so she needed a space of her own. Thor was in the small lounge area, engrossed in something on the tablet Stark had given him. Every so often he would look up and stare at Jane with such affection that Darcy found herself forgiving him for his early morning intrusion. He was like a giant golden puppy and who could stay mad at a puppy?

"Hey, Thor can I get a hand," she called to him. Immediately he set down the tablet and came to her side, eager to assist. (She could almost imagine a tail wagging behind him.) She roped him into moving some of the equipment and furniture around until Darcy felt satisfied with the placement. To thank him, she promised him she would make lunch.

Stepping off the elevator and onto the main floor, she was focused on the phone in her hand. It had been dinging with updates for the last hour and she was trying to catch up on the latest news. She was so invested in her feed she wasn't watching where she was going. Which was how she literally smacked into Captain Rogers. She bounced off him with such force that she fell flat on her ass.

It would have been comical had it not been so embarrassing.

Looking up into his gorgeously concerned face, she found herself laughing despite the embarrassment. "I knew your pecs were killer Rogers, didn't think I'd get first hand experience though."

He offered her his hand and an apologetic smile. (There also may have been a hint of blush on his cheeks, but Darcy was smart enough not to comment.) "I'm sorry Ms. Lewis. I wasn't paying attention."

"Darcy," she said taking his hand.

"What?" He really was adorable when he was flustered.

"Call me Darcy. I figure it's lady's choice after you knock her down."

That got a huff of laughter out of him. "Darcy it is then. I truly am sorry Darcy."

"No worries," she replied as she brushed herself off. "On your way out?" There was a pause while Rogers thought about his response and she realized that he might not be able to talk about where he was going or what he was doing, cause you know that whole super secret organization thing (duh). "Nevermind. If you tell me you might have to kill me and I really don't want to get blood on these shoes."

Rogers eyes tracked down to the footwear she indicated and then slowly back up. When his gaze clashed with hers again she felt like someone had set her insides to broil.

"I was going to head down to one of the volunteer sites," he explained. "But I might grab something to eat first. Were you taking a lunch break?"

Darcy tried very very hard not to read into that question. This was Captain America after all. He totally didn't mean for that to sound like an invitation. "I, uh, I'm on my way to the kitchen to make lunch for the science crusaders. And Thor. I could make an extra helping if you like? Its nothing fancy just macaroni and cheese."

His slow warm smile was the most damn patriotic thing she had seen all day. Definitely made her want to salute the flag and sing the national anthem. "I would love to try some."

He proved to be helpful in the kitchen. Fetching ingredients, mixing while she measured, using those glorious muscles to grate chunks of cheese. She kept the conversation going though he was no slouch either. He had her doubled over with side-splitting laughter after telling her a ridiculous story about his days with the Howling Commandos. The mac and cheese was in the oven (all six casserole dishes), and they were cleaning up the kitchen. When her laughter finally petered out, she found him staring at her. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"Not at all. Usually I...I don't talk about the Commandos. But you...you remind me of them a little, I guess. With you its easy to talk about it."

Never in her life had Darcy been more pleased by a compliment. Of course in true Lewis fashion she couldn't say thank you and move on. "Thanks, Rogers. Though I'm not sure how a lab monkey rates with the Howling Commandos."

There was that frown again. Like deja vu she was reminded of yesterday. And like yesterday, they were interrupted before Rogers could say whatever was on his mind.

"Lady Darcy?" The booming voice rolled through the room and Darcy was grateful for it.

"In here, Thor," she called.

He appeared in the doorway, his golden locks flowing behind him like a shampoo commercial. "I have come to assist." He spotted Rogers right off. "Ah! Captain! Have you come to feast with us as well?"

Rogers frown lifted a bit but he still threw Darcy a look that she saw out of the corner of her eye but choose to ignore. "Yes. Though there isn't much left to do except wait. Everything's in the oven already." He indicated the appliance with a wave of his hand and Thor crouched to take a look at the bubbling cheese.

"It has a most pleasant aroma," he announced as he straightened. "Tis well done, Lady Darcy."

Darcy smiled up at him. He really was adorable. "Aww, thanks big guy." She laid a hand on his arm of out habit. Darcy had always been a tactile person. Usually she held that particular need in check, but Thor never minded (and who wouldn't want to touch a god?). She caught the frown on Roger's face before he could conceal it. (Now wasn't that strange.)

Removing her hand, she turned to the door. "Well boys, I need the little girl's room, so I'll be back. When the buzzer goes off, pull them all out. Two for the scientists, the other four are yours to fight over."

Walking out, she kept her held high and her usual careless attitude in her step. Facing the mirror in the bathroom, she pulled off her glasses and rubbed her hands over her face. Steve Rogers was just a man. Yeah right, her inner critic snorted. And Thor is just a model for Lo'real.

She chuckled a little at her own sarcasm as she dropped her hands to the counter. Rogers was an icon. A national treasure. He should be stuffy and rigid. Instead, he was fun and casual. He was someone she could be friends with easily. Someone who could be more. But...(and this was a big but. Like a "Baby Got Back" back up dancer booty.) Darcy Lewis knew she would screw it up. There was no way she would be able to keep Mr. America even if she got the chance to take him. Which meant she had to get herself under control now. She had to stop thinking of him in as anything more than a potential friend. She had to stop finding those little smirks endearing.

Get it together, Lewis, she coached herself. She straightened up and tried on her nothing-bothering-me smile. It fit like a glove. With smile firmly in place, she could push down all the other thoughts. Captain America would be her friend. She would not lust after anything else from him.

Walking back into the kitchen, she found a god and an icon shuffling mac and cheese into their faces like it was the last meal they were going to get. Rolling her eyes, she picked up two of the casserole dishes and headed down to the lab for feeding time. It was going to be a long day.

That evening Darcy's prediction proved correct. Jane was dug into the lab like a tick. It was already past seven and the scientist showed no signs of winding down. Tony was also far from finished. He was blaring AC/DC louder than humans should be able to withstand. It didn't bother Darcy. She liked his taste (in music at least). Plus Tony was one floor up and on the opposite side of the building (Pepper had insisted on having nothing but storage above or below his lab due to the frequency of explosions), behind soundproof walls. However, Darcy was done for the day. She had put in enough hours and she was getting hungry. Hunger made her cranky.

She was about to give up on Jane and go back to her apartment for a bit (she would check on Jane later of course), when Jarvis lowered her music. "Darcy, Captain Rogers wishes to know if you would like to join him and Dr. Banner for dinner."

"Yes," she said jumping up. "That would be fabulous."

"Dinner will be held on the common floor. I believe Dr. Banner is planning to show Captain Rogers how to use Netflix as well."

She grinned while she gathered her things. She would drop these off in her room, and while she was there she could freshen up. Maybe change her shirt. She was sure she didn't smell but it was after hours now, she could change without anyone questioning it. As she laid a hand on her cell, she paused. What was she doing? She was way too enthusiastic over dinner with potential friends. Palm met forehead with a smack. Damnit Lewis! You are supposed to be thinking of him a friend! Friends do not go put on lipstick and change outfits just to hang out together. Groaning, she pulled her hand from her forehead and headed out the door.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes Darcy."

"Could you please let me know if Jane leaves the lab? Tony too. If not, can you remind me when its ten so I can come pry them out."

"Of course, Darcy."

"And Jarvis?"

"Yes?"

"You're the best."

"Of course, Darcy."

* * *

It turned out that Darcy needn't have worried so much. Rogers was a perfect gentlemen going forward. There were no unreadable looks. No conversations where she couldn't figure out if he was flirting or not. (She might have been fighting a natural attraction to him still, but he wasn't making it worse.) He was, at the very least, an entertaining conversationalist and interesting acquaintance. At best he was a casual friend.

There was another change as well. Rogers was no longer the last one to leave the work site. Though she didn't really know that it was a change until Tony said something with his usual social grace. "So you all finished with the clean-up Cap? Or have you decided to act your age and start going to bed before eight?"

Steve hadn't bothered to prod Tony back. Darcy knew that he could give as good as he got, but with Tony he mostly backed down first. She wondered why but then assumed it was because Tony was about six years old maturity wise and when arguing with a child you were never a winner. However, Darcy didn't let that stop her. "Does that mean you're going to show him all the best places for an early bird special," she questioned the genius.

Tony smirked at her as he poured himself another drink from the bar. "You're funny, Lewis. Isn't it about time for your mom to pick you up though? Visitation hours for the home are about over," he snarked, waving his glass at Steve.

"I think you're confused, grandpa," she said falsely sweet. "You got kicked out of the nursing homes, remember?" She shot a look at Bruce and Steve. "Mom and Dad had to bring you home to live with us."

Bruce gave Rogers a sidelong glance before he pronounced calmly with a long suffering sigh, "She gets it from your side of the family."

There was a second of silence before everyone broke into laughter. Even Tony.

Not to be outdone, Rogers finally piped up. "Wait. Are you the mom or the dad in this scenario? Because I would like to point out that you would definitely look better in an apron."

This, of course, sparked a heated debate between Darcy and Tony about which of the Avengers would look better in women's clothing. Excluding Natasha of course. Though that was mainly because Tony claimed she was a "spy not a woman". Didn't really make all that much sense to Darcy, but Bruce and Rogers both went with it so what the hell.

By the end of the week, Darcy started to become curious about what Steve was doing when he volunteered. When she posed the question, he was more than willing to give her an answer. "Its nothing glamorous, mostly grunt work, but it's things that need doing. The world needed us to help in a big way before. Now the city needs us just as badly if in a smaller way."

He was amazing. He was a man who would physically be unable to leave if he saw someone in trouble. Her thoughts must have shown on her face for he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Really it's no big deal. You're welcome to come down and see if you like," he offered.

The next day, she had taken him up on his offer (as Thor had dragged Jane out of the lab for some "quality time" before he headed back to space for a bit). Jarvis had directed her via instructions he'd sent to her phone so she wouldn't get lost in the manic pace of New York. As she approached the site, she could tell which of the distant figures was Rogers simply by the way he moved. She had never been one for manual labor personally, but watching Rogers work was a thing of beauty. His movements smooth and purposeful.

"Lookin' fer somethin', lady?" The voice was friendly if a little rough around the edges.

"Yeah. You, big guy," she said with a sassy wink to the older man in an orange hard hat and matching vest.

The man gave a bark of a laugh and sauntered over a hand on his heart. "Don't be teasin' sweetheart. My old ticker can't take it."

She grinned at him unrepentantly. "You know who's the boss man around here?"

The man tipped back his hat with a finger to look at her more closely. "You some sort a reporter or somethin'?"

"No, sir. Think of me as Little Red Riding Hood. I'm just delivering treats to the hungry wolves." She gestured to the giant bag she had hanging at her side.

"Got plenty wolves here, sweetheart. Let me call 'em in." He gave a sharp whistle which indeed brought the pack running.

Darcy quickly unloaded the bag from her shoulder. She had raided Tony's cupboards and come up with a multitude of sweets and treats to help the volunteers power through their day. However, it appeared that some of the wolves didn't have a hunger for food, but a taste for something else. Two of them crowded close to Darcy as she emptied the bag into waiting hands.

"Say, sugar," said one of those who was intruding on Darcy's personal bubble. "Your man know that you're down here with us?"

Now that irked her. "I don't need to report to any man."

"Ain't got a man, darlin'? That's a damn shame," the other one replied.

"You could call me and tell me where you're gonna be," the first one offered.

Darcy wrapped her hand around the handle of the taser in her pocket. "No thanks."

The second made as if to put a hand on her and she tightened her grip on the taser but the touch never came. Instead Rogers was there with hand on the man's shoulder. "The lady said no." If the scowl on his face didn't say back off in big enough letters, the increasing tightness of the grip on the man's shoulder did. Tweedledee winced and threw up his hands in surrender. Rogers released him, and kept glaring until Tweedledee and Tweedledum moved far enough away.

The boss man, who had witnessed the entire exchange, came over. "Sorry about those two, sweetheart. I'll take care of 'em."

"It's cool. No worries, big guy," she assured him. He gave her a smile then turned his attention to the dynamic dipshits.

Rogers was not pleased. He wasn't scowling, but he had on that "America is disappointed in you" face that could crush a person's spirit. He didn't say anything, just continued to gaze at her intently with arms crossed over his chest. He was waiting her out.

Darcy did not do well with silence.

"What," she finally demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, mirroring his posture.

"What are you doing down here?"

Her brows furrowed. He had invited her hadn't he. Maybe she had misunderstood. Maybe he had only said that in the moment. No way to tell unless she asked him. "I was invited." She tried to make it sound like a statement, but as the words left her mouth she knew she had failed.

That disappointed look didn't disappear. "I mean what are you doing down here by yourself? Its dangerous. I didn't mean for you to trek all over New York alone. I would have brought you with me."

Oh. "Well you should have said that to begin with," she huffed. "Besides, I am perfectly capable of defending myself. I took out Thor once." She didn't mention that he had been hit with a car first.

He didn't seem overly impressed, but at least his lips twitched with what might have been a smile.

He let the subject drop while he showed her around and introduced her to a few people. He wasn't going by his own name here, instead he called himself JB, and Darcy could understand the wisdom of that. As the crew started to finish their breaks and head back to work, he walked over the boss man. She couldn't hear what was said but in less than a minute he was striding back to her while the boss man gave her a wave over his shoulder.

"I'm taking you home," Rogers announced as he gently took her elbow. He led her around the corner to his bike. She really wanted to refuse. Pressing up against his back while the wind whipped around them was not a great way to keep him in the friend category in her mind. But she didn't want to risk another "America is disappointed in you" face. Two in the same day would be crushing.

She had to wear the helmet (not sexy), but the feel of having her arms around him definitely made up for it. While they sped through the streets, Darcy savored the moment. Might never have another one quite like this, she thought.


	5. Chapter 5

"Lewis! Just the monkey I was looking for," Tony said as he came up along side her in the hallway.

Darcy rolled her eyes but let the monkey comment slide. She chose to take it as a term of endearment from Tony's warped mind. "What can I do for you, Tony?"

He kept several feet of space between them while he strode beside her. He did the same with everyone, claiming that he didn't like to be touched. Darcy had her suspicions about other reasons than personal preference but she kept her thoughts to herself. "I need your help with an experiment."

Quirking an eyebrow in disbelief, she gave Tony a look over her glasses. That statement was hard to believe as they were walking away from his lab not toward it.

"Its in the common room," he replied as if he had heard her question. "Trust me." Which, of course, did not inspire confidence. "It will take ten minutes tops."

Darcy remained silent. This was Tony. She had heard all sorts of warnings from Pepper and then from Bruce and Rogers.

"Help me and I'll have a coffee bar installed in your room."

... "Deal." Warnings were only suggestions after all.

Tony smiled like a cat in cream. This was going to end badly. But at least she would have coffee to get her through the consequences.

Entering the common area she didn't see anything that looked like an experiment. Only Rogers...oh no.

"Like I said Lewis, fuck the physics of it. Those motherfuckers are wrong."

Darcy watched as Rogers nearly choked on the water he had been attempting to drink.

"Tony!" He said giving the scientist a glare.

"What? I'm right. I know I'm right."

"Language Tony," Rogers admonished, throwing a considering glance at Darcy.

Darcy was by no means stupid. Astrophysics, genetics, and robotics may not have been her thing, and her brain certainly paled in comparison to Jane's, but she was far from ignorant. She immediately understood what game Tony was trying to play. Rogers had a reputation for not liking some of the more colorful vernacular of the 21st century.

"Yes its a helpful way of expressing oneself. And explaining the depth of ignorance of certain motherfuckers," Tony said, pretending he didn't understand Rogers' admonishment.

Rogers cleared his throat and pointedly tilted his head in Darcy's direction. Tony looked to her and then back to Rogers, purposefully misunderstanding. "She agrees with me. Don't you, Lewis?"

She took the cue without further prompting. "Yeah, Tony. Definitely motherfuckers," she said with a straight face.

Rogers only gave her a slight smirk before turning back to Tony with the "America is disappointed in you" face that she had feared he would use on her. The genius couldn't keep up the charade at that point. "Hold it. You're looking at me like I alone corrupted the youth of America for a little profane language. Lewis said the same thing. How come she's exempt?" Outrage was written on his face.

Not surprisingly, Rogers did not answer. Tony continued to badger him and though Darcy really wanted to stay and see how that played out she did have work to do. Getting on the elevator, she could hear Tony still talking. "Is this because my genitals are on the outside? Cause that sexist Rogers. Even the feminists would agree that you're discriminating."

When the elevator doors were securely closed, Darcy gave in to the laughter. As far as experiments go, it hadn't been very scientific, but it had given Darcy some insight to her favorite patriotic hero. Perhaps further tests would be needed. True to his words, three days later Darcy came back to her apartment to find a brand new fully automated coffee bar that matched the one on the common floor. Jarvis informed her that he had taken the liberty of programing it with all her favorite brews. Which ended up being a wonderful thing because she needed the pick me up after having her confidence crushed by that same soldier.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun found Rogers still lying in bed. It was unusual. Since waking from the ice, it took him ages to get to sleep and once under he had nightmares that would jerk him awake long before he felt rested. In the last two weeks, there had been several nights where he actually slept. The despair that ate at his soul during the night had been dimmed. The potency of his nightmares seemed diminished. Even if it only a brief reprieve, he was thankful. Though he wasn't ready to admit why it was happening in the first place.

He had been at the tower for a few weeks now. Darcy had only been there for two...It was probably time for him to be moving on.

Reaching for his phone on the nightstand, he found no new messages. Yet. Fury called him on a daily basis. Leaving messages that mostly excluded the colorful language that he was accustomed to using. Even without the curse words, Rogers could tell that Fury was beginning to lose his patience. He wanted Rogers in D.C. It was hard to say if Fury's insistence was only because he needed help or if because he wanted Rogers where he could keep a better eye on him. The good Captain was under no illusions. SHIELD was monitoring him. They had been since day one. But Tony made it difficult for them within the Tower.

Rogers was glad of that. He didn't want anyone to know about Darcy more than they already did. He knew she had a file in SHIELD's database right along with Dr. Foster due to the incident in New Mexico (and the more recent incident in London), but there was no reason for SHIELD or anyone else to be watching her now. He told himself that his concern was only because she was linked to more than half the Avengers and could become a target from that association.

Finally rising from the bed, he looked around his room. Almost everything here had been provided by Tony. The things he would take with him would probably not even fill his duffel bag. That was all right. This had only been meant as a temporary stay.

Tony's idea of a base in the Tower was strategically sound, but the Avengers weren't really a team yet. They had worked well together during the Chitauri attack there was no doubt, but it took more than that to make a team. Rogers could remember clearly how the Commandos would celebrate after each victory, commiserate after each loss. The Avengers were still fractured, though there were connections between some of them. Clint and Natasha were close, almost eerily so. Rogers often wondered if they were more than partners but he had more discretion than to ask. Tony and Bruce shared the gift of science making them "science bros" according to Darcy. Rogers could only assume this meant because they were both in the brotherhood of the mind they had bonded. Thor was the most alien of them all and only seemed close with Jane and Darcy.

Darcy again. His thoughts always circled back around to her. It was the proximity. That was all. Of course he would think of her often.

It was definitely time to go.

No time like the present, he told himself, as he began to gather his things. He would tell Tony, Bruce, and Thor. There was no reason to see Darcy. Tony could contact him if he was needed for something. Plus he would be working for SHIELD and they would tell him if the Avengers were called to action. No reason for Darcy to have to contact him. So why did he want to give her his number so badly? Why was he even questioning his own motivations?

He shrugged off the impulse. No. Darcy Lewis was young. (Granted she was only a couple years younger than himself if you didn't count the years he was frozen.) She was innocent. She had never seen war. She couldn't possibly share anything in common with a fossil like him.

Yet something about her vivacious attitude drew him. Sometimes when she smiled he forgot all the reasons that he shouldn't pursue her. He forgot that he had always been awkward with women because she made it so easy. She was a bright shaft of sunlight like Bucky had been. She didn't need to touch his shadowed world. Association with him had never done Bucky any good.

Decision made, he grabbed a shower and got himself ready. He left his bag by the door and went to find Bruce first. Banner had a habit of waking early and meditating on the balcony before Tony could disturb his peace. True to form, the older man was sitting cross legged on a thin mat. Rogers waited patiently until he was done before approaching.

Keeping it simple he explained where he was going and told him he would leave his contact information with Jarvis. He told Banner that it wasn't there only for emergencies and to call for anything at all.

Banner nodded, then gave him a considering stare over his glasses. "I have a question. But you don't have to answer."

Rogers motioned him to continue.

"Are you leaving because you want to be in D.C.? Or are you running from a certain lab assistant with dark hair and a coffee addiction?" When the silence stretched too long, Banner gave him a knowing smile and shook his head slightly. "No need to answer. I was only wondering." Rolling up his mat with efficiency, he headed for the door. "Either way, good luck to you, Captain."

With that he was gone, leaving Rogers to contemplate how little he really knew about the soft-spoken scientist.

Thor was his next stop. It was painlessly done with Thor clapping him on the shoulder and wishing him well on his journey, not questioning anything he was told. Jane had been there, pouring over a notebook and had wished him luck with a distracted wave.

Last was Tony. Rogers was fairly certain he wasn't even going to be awake yet. Surprisingly, when he inquired about Tony's location, Jarvis directed him to one of the basement levels where Tony had several vehicles stored including Rogers' own bike. Taking his bag with him, he went to find he billionaire. Even though the room gleamed with advanced tech, it smelled like every other garage or machine shop. There was grease and motor oil and gasoline. The only sound was the soft whirl of machines and Jarvis' voice as he read out stats on Rogers' motorbike. Tony had it on a raised platform and was running some kind of holographic diagnostic. When he spotted Rogers, he had Jarvis save the program and close it.

"What's up, Cap," he questioned. It was the same words that Tony had spoken to him weeks ago but this time the tone was subdued. Rogers put it down to the man's tiredness. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes that spoke of another all-nighter.

"I'm headed back to D.C." The only was response was a noncommittal hum from Tony. "Fury's got a mission for me, and I'll be training with Natasha."

"Sounds like a soldier's wet dream," Tony said. The words were his usual attitude but tone was still off. He waved his hand and the platform the bike lowered back to the floor. Tony watched it sink all the way down before he spoke again. "D.C. isn't that far of a commute if you ever need to get away Rogers. The Tower is always open."

"I appreciate it Tony." He held out a hand which Tony took in a shake. The older man gave a quiet smile and make his way out.

The whole conversation had seemed a bit surreal, but Rogers couldn't stay to figure out what was making Tony act so strange. Instead he strapped his bag down on the back of the bike and revved the engine. It was still early in the day but traffic was already thick as he exited onto the street. He gave the streets of New York a grim smile as he slide the bike between two yellow cabs going far faster than was safe. It should have been a four hour drive to D.C. but Rogers was fairly certain he could do it in about half that time.

While he dodged cars and pushed his bike to the limit at least he would feel alive, not like he was running.

* * *

It was around noon when Darcy realized the Tower was down one occupant. She was thinking about making lunch and was trying to figure out what would be good based on how many portions she needed. (Thor and Steve always counted for more than one portion a piece.) "Jarvis, is Rogers volunteering today?"

"No, Darcy. Captain Rogers has left the Tower."

Darcy was surprised as Rogers had rarely left for anything other than his volunteer work in the last two weeks. It was good to hear he was doing something else for once. She had been considering inviting him out to an art gallery or one of the museums, but she wasn't completely sure she could make it sound like a friendly invitation and not a date so she hadn't spoken up. Rogers had never mentioned anything about art but she'd caught him more than once sketching in a notebook. From the glimpses she'd had he wasn't half bad.

"Did he say if he will be back in time for dinner," she asked the digital butler.

"I do not believe so Darcy. Captain Rogers informed me that he was going to D.C. and did not indicate any plans to return."

The kick in her gut hurt, but she shoved it down as hard and fast as she could. The only outward sign of her distress was the tight grip she had on the edge of the desk. "Good to know," she said evenly.

Jane called out to her needing assistance with something or other. Darcy only half listened as she helped. It wasn't hard. She mostly only half-listened to Jane's physics-babble anyway. When Jane no longer required her, she went to the kitchen to put together lunch.

Focusing on what was in front of her, she was able to avoid thoughts of Rogers for the whole afternoon. As soon as she could though, she slipped away from the labs and back to her room. She needed to think, not react, and that was much easier when there weren't people around. Rogers had left, but he hadn't said a word to her. That was easily explained. Maybe he had an urgent mission and couldn't say where he was going or why. And why would he even bother saying anything, her inner critic said. The voice did have a valid point. They had only known each other for two weeks, and she wasn't an Avenger or anything. He had no obligation to say anything to her.

But this was Rogers. This was the man who had said she reminded him of the Howling Commandos. The one who had stood up for her against those jerks down at the construction site. The one who had been threatening a microwave when she first met him because he was too stubborn to have Jarvis work it for him. This was not the kind of man who would disappear without a word to anyone.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Darcy."

"Did Rogers tell anyone other than you that he was leaving?"

"Captain Rogers did indeed. He spoke with Dr. Banner, Mr. Odinson, Dr. Foster, and Sir this morning before leaving."

"Oh." So he had told someone. He had told everyone. Everyone except her.

At some point during the last two weeks, Darcy had thought they were headed for a friendship. Obviously not. Deep breath, Lewis, she cautioned herself as she felt the tears burn in back of her eyes.

Jarvis, bless his base code, seemed to register her distress. "Would you like something to drink, Darcy? Your new coffee bar is ready. I've even taken the liberty of programing some of your favorites along with a soothing camomile tea that I can prepare for you now."

She smiled up at the corner where she knew the camera was located. It may have been a little watery around the edges but it was still a smile. "You're the best, Jarvis. But I need something a little stronger than camomile if you don't mind."

"Of course, Darcy."

With steaming cup in hand, Darcy curled up in the corner of her ratty couch and pulled a throw over her legs. It was comforting. She needed that comfort. Rationally she knew that Rogers hadn't abandoned her, but her the rest of her wasn't so rational. She had been left behind again. What was it about her that made it so easy to throw her away? First her parents, her aunt, her past loves, even Ian who had saved her life in London. They all eventually walked away like it was nothing. And maybe it was. Maybe she just wasn't worth the effort of staying for.

She had very few close friends though from the look of her social media pages you would never guess. Jane was the best friend that she'd had in years. And family...well that was not a good direction for thoughts to be going if she was trying to make herself feel better.

The confident and sarcastic shell she wore had cracked and her weak vulnerable self was peeking out. By the morning, she would be back to normal. Everything tucked back into place. For now she would breathe in the steam of her coffee and try to remind herself that no one's opinion mattered to her, even if she knew that she was lying.

###

D.C. was a nice city Rogers had found. His apartment was fairly bland, but he tried not to spend too much time in it. Especially during those first few weeks when idle moments made his thoughts turn to how those at the Tower were faring. Thankfully, SHIELD kept him busy. There was always a mission. When there wasn't, the research teams wanted to run tests, the tactical strike teams wanted to train with him, and the head doctors wanted to 'evaluate' him. He spent a lot of time avoiding the last group.

Natasha was there most of the time too. Training with her was always a surprise. She seemed to have an endless bag of tricks and just when he thought he had a good strategy against her she would pull out something new. Fury had made her his unofficial partner and liaison to the rest of SHIELD. She had taken it upon herself to expand his horizons and drag him into the 21st century. What she really wanted to do was play matchmaker. He ignored that for the most part and brushed off her suggestions with deflecting banter. They had become fairly good friends in the time he had been in the city. She was probably the person he was closest with...as much as one could get close to the Black Widow.

Then he met Sam Wilson.

Rogers often found himself running or lifting weights. Anything that made his muscles burn. Exercise became a haven for him. During the war, it hadn't really been a need. Now he found it was a good way to keep the demons away, to wear himself out enough to sleep. It also helped to sharpen his skills. He was deadlier than he had even been before. Sometimes he questioned whether that was a good development.

Out of all the ways he pushed himself he enjoyed running the best. In the early morning hours when there was fog still trailing through the streets, he could lose himself in the rhythm. He could forget about the things he had lost and the things he had never had.

The first time Rogers had passed the other runner in the weak light of the rising sun, he had called out a quick "on your left" as a warning. When he lapped the man, calling another warning, he had heard the annoyance in his voice when he responded "Uh-huh. On my left. Got it." As he approached for the third time, Sam had increased speed and warningly called "Don't say it. Don't you say it." Rogers couldn't resist the urge to tweak the other man's tail after that.

Sam had taken it well, and gave back as good as he got. He even gave Rogers a suggestion for his list of things to try. Most surprising, Sam also seemed to understand some of the shadows Rogers had been running from. When he mentioned the VA, Rogers never pictured himself going, but the offer stayed in the back of his mind.

After the Lemurian Star mission, Rogers had found himself wondering about what Sam really did at the VA, so he decided to pay him a visit. Watching Sam lead the group counseling session made Rogers think perhaps he had been too quick to brush off the idea of therapy. He still wasn't ready to walk into that room though. He could appreciate why it might help, but his own situation was so much more convoluted than only what the war had done to him. He had lost everything. And while the world was no longer mourning the soldiers that had been lost on the fields of Europe to Hydra and Hitler, he still was. For him it had been months not decades.

Maybe he needed to see that it hadn't all been for nothing.

When Fury had shown him the Helicarriers and proclaimed that they were to protect freedom, Rogers had felt disappointment and anger. For that moment, listening to Fury had been like listening to Schmidt, the Red Skull, talk about how superior men were meant to rule over the weak. Did no one remember what it had been like back then? Did no one recognize that the propaganda being spouted now sounded eerily like Hydra's own from so long ago?

He needed someone to remember.

Naively, he thought a visit to the Smithsonian exhibit in honor of him and the Howling Commandos might ease some of his desperation. Here they remembered. They honored the men who had fought beside him. Even Bucky.

Looking at the wall in honor of his best friend he felt his heart stutter. There had been so many missed opportunities with Bucky. Things they had never given voice too. Things they ignored and buried beneath their easy banter. Bucky had been his rock. He had been there when Rogers' own body betrayed him with sickness. Bucky had been the one to drag him home after every scrap he'd had with bigger and stronger men. After the serum, Rogers had finally thought that he could be the rock Bucky needed in return. There had been no hesitation in the brunette's eyes when they had sat in that bar talking about diving back into the war zone he had escaped. Rogers could still clearly remember asking, "Are you ready to follow 'Captain America' into the jaws of death?"

The serious look on his face had almost made Rogers believe him when Bucky replied "Hell, no." But his eyes never lied. His eyes smiled. "That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight, I'm following him."

The words echoed in Rogers memory. God, he missed Bucky.

Following the flow of people, he was planning on leaving the museum when he heard another voice from his past. Peggy. In the looping video, she spoke about him with affection and regret. It had been recorded years ago, but she looked full of life. He knew she wouldn't look the same now. But at least she was alive, unlike everyone else from his past.

The tour left him uneasy and desperate all over again. He knew where Peggy was. It had been in one of the files they had given him him months ago, but he had never reached out. Afraid she would turn him away for abandoning her, he hadn't even attempted. She would be ashamed of him for that. In the end, he need not have worried. She welcomed him with tears and a smile. For an hour or so they spoke of the old days, the things she had done with her life, the way the others had dealt without him. Then Peggy, his dear Peggy with her white hair and wrinkled hands, had given him a gift. "The world is changed and none of us can go back," she said. "All we can do is our best. And sometimes the best we can do is to start over."

When a coughing fit had started he had hurried to get her a glass of water, but in those brief seconds he lost her all over again. The nurses had warned him. Her mind was like a kaleidoscope, always shifting. Sometimes it was would align perfectly and she would be in the now and cognizant. Sometimes it would align back to 1945 when the war still raged. Other times she would be waiting for her children and husband to come home.

Another knife to his heart. He could see her, touch her hand, but that sharp mind he had so admired had been dulled by time.

Rogers left soon after. He couldn't go through it with her all again. He couldn't watch her struggle to understand how it was he still lived.

For all the pain the day had give him, there was a small spark of hope now. Perhaps he could start over as Peggy said. He would never forget the past, but maybe he would try to stop wishing he was still there. Maybe he would go on one of the dates Natasha suggested. When the vision of Darcy sitting across from him at a candlelight restaurant rose in his mind, he squashed it. Not that. But maybe his neighbor would be a good place to start. Sharon ultimately told him a no, but it had been gently done and he appreciated it. It gave him confidence to try again with someone else. That little spark of hope was growing brighter.

Unfortunately, his plans got put on hold when everything went to shit.

Fury had been hiding in his apartment. He said SHIELD couldn't be trusted. No one could be trusted. Before he could explain more the window shattered from the force of a bullet and Fury went down.

Watching helplessly as SHIELD's fearsome director flatlined, Rogers gave a brief thought to calling the Tower but he tossed it aside. If he called the Tower, everyone there would be in danger. Thor would probably be able to handle himself. Banner too. Tony would be vulnerable unless he was suited up and he couldn't spend every second encased in metal. The innocents there would have no protection. Darcy among them.

No. He would deal with this with help from those who were already involved, and hope it was enough.

Facing the Winter Soldier across a battle torn street, he knew it wasn't going to be enough.


	7. Chapter 7

There were seven holographic monitors displaying various news feeds on the lab wall. Darcy was watching them all as she paced between the chairs of the small lounge area. Over and over she watched the clip of Captain American being arrested. He looked beaten down, something she had never thought to see, as he knelt on the street automatic weapons pointed at his head. This wasn't the fatigued and battle worn Captain America the world had seen during the incursion in New York. This was a bewildered and humbled Steve.

The first time the clip played she had held her breath in anticipation believing he would fight free of the men surrounding him. She knew he was strong enough, fast enough. But he didn't fight. He let them load him into the back of a black SUV without protest. It was wrong. Very wrong. When the vehicle had later been identified as belonging to SHIELD, her unease only grew.

Every so often she would pick up her tazer from the end table in agitation and then set it back down. She needed to do something. She needed to help.

Realistically, there was nothing she could do. She knew that. But still she practically vibrated with impotent energy.

Her stomach was in knots as she contemplated the phone in her hand. She had tried contacting Tony, who was in Malibu, but there had been no response as of yet. Bruce was sequestered on some meditation retreat without any means of contact. Thor, her go-to guy, had taken Jane to visit one of the nine realms. Darcy wasn't even sure which one. Not that it mattered, none of them had cell service.

She wasn't even sure how long she had been down here. It seemed like days. Jarvis could probably tell her but she didn't ask. When she had gotten wind of what was happening via the ever helpful Facebook, she had retreated to the lab where she knew she could have all the news stations displayed at once. There were no windows here. No clocks. It was like being in Vegas. The world could pass you by while you shot for a dream at the tables. This wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare.

True, Rogers had left without a word to her, but she still cared about him. Now he was in trouble. The kind she was ill equipped to deal with.

"There appears to be a new development," Jarvis announced. Her eyes snapped to the screens. They lit up with destruction. It was a war zone. Like a bomb had gone off. Wreckage was scattered across the river next to a barely standing building the reporters identified as SHIELD headquarters.

"Oh my god," she whispered in horror.

She sank into the chair behind her without even blinking. She watched raptly, terrified that any second they would announce that Captain America's corpse had been found. The news casters droned on with unconfirmed reports of what had happened. No one knew, not really. The vast amount of information that had suddenly appeared on the net about the shadowy operations for SHIELD only complicated matters. It was chaos.

Then finally the news came. Captain America had been located. Steve was alive.

Darcy felt her lungs fill with a deep breath of relief.


	8. Chapter 8

Rogers woke in the hospital knowing the world had shifted underneath him again. Bucky was alive and the war he thought they'd won together wasn't really over. Not yet. But he would end it. He would grind Hydra into the ground for what they had done to his best friend. First he would find Bucky.

Sam had tried to warn him that the Winter Soldier wasn't the same man as Steve had known his whole life. That he might not be someone that could be saved. Rogers couldn't believe that. Not before their assault on the Helicarriers, and certainly not after.

Hanging in the air over the Potomac, he had taken every hit that Bucky had thrown. He had kept on going even as the bullets ripped through him. He had done so because Bucky's eyes never lied. His words and his actions screamed that he was a monster, forever chained to the very people he had died to destroy. But his eyes...oh God his eyes. They burned with bitterness, with confusion, with despair. And deeper still there had been a shadow of forgotten memories.

Whatever wounds Hydra had given Bucky, Steve refused to add to them. That was why he put up no fight when Bucky pounded him until he was barely conscious. To an outsider it might seem like he had backed down from that fight. Instead he had chosen to start a new battle. He would fight for Bucky's sanity, for his soul. As he sank beneath the murky water, he was prepared to pay the final cost if it meant Bucky still had a shot at waking up. When he was told they had found him on the river bank, no one claiming credit for his rescue, he knew that Bucky had saved him. The first battle in this new war was won.

Standing beside Fury's false grave fully healed, he tried to give Natasha hope that he was going to keep moving forward with his life. He knew it was a lie. His will was focused on Bucky. He might be ready to start over but not until Bucky was with him. Not until he was safe. He was with him until the end of the line.

Sam, bless him, stood at Rogers' back and simply asked when they were getting started. Sam stood with him when the leads they followed led to nothing. He pushed Rogers to eat, to sleep, to take care of himself. "Would Bucky want you doing this to yourself," he would ask harshly when Rogers refused to listen.

Days turned to weeks. They were no closer to finding Bucky, but they had learned the depth of the atrocities that had been done to him and the ones he had been forced to commit. It was horrific and went back decades. There was no way to tell how long Bucky had been allowed out of his cryogenic prison in total. They could only track the timeline of his life by the trail of bodies he had left in his wake. Only Bucky himself would be able to tell them more.

To Steve, the past was not important. He didn't care about the brutality or the destruction they found that had marked Bucky's passing. Only this present mattered. And the future.

Sitting in a cheap hotel, somewhere in Colorado, Rogers was pouring over the file they were compiling, while Sam channel surfed. Rogers had read the entirety of the file at least a dozen times. He probably could have recited it from memory. Yet he kept hoping that some detail would jump out at him and provide a clue to where Bucky was now.

What he needed was more people searching. He needed the resources that SHEILD had wielded. Unfortunately, he didn't have access to anything to close to that. Tony was probably the only person the planet who had similar resources. He could go to Tony, but that would mean involving everyone in the Tower. It was a debate he'd had several times with himself. Thus far, he had avoided the Tower and the other Avengers not wanting to involve them in his personal vendetta. But his own efforts had stalled. Maybe it was time to seek some help from his teammates.

"Welcome back ladies and gentleman," the news anchor's tinny voice said from the crappy TV speakers. "Tony Stark, genius inventor and billionaire, is still missing. Earlier today, his famous Malibu home was destroyed by unknown attackers. The CEO of Stark Industries, Pepper Potts, is also unaccounted for presently. At this time, authorities are refusing to comment on the possible identity of the attackers or on where Mr. Stark and Mrs. Potts are still alive."

Rogers closed the file with a snap and stood up suddenly. Sam looked at him questioningly. "We're going to New York," he announced as he stored the file in his bag and grabbed his jacket. True to from, Sam readied himself without question. When Rogers had asked Sam about why he chose to hang around, Sam had been evasive. His only answer had been "I do what you do, just slower". Rogers didn't question it. Sam was a good man and a good soldier. And Steve Rogers was rather short on both of those lately.

They drove non-stop in Sam's pickup. On the border of Pennsylvania, the music on the radio suddenly cut out. The president had been kidnapped.

Sam immediately pulled over and got out of the driver's seat.

"What are you doing," Rogers asked, exiting as well.

"You're driving. I need more sleep than you do and we're both going to need to be ready to go. Plus I know you can go drive faster more safely than I can." He circled the hood and climbed in the passenger seat. Once they were moving again, Sam made himself comfortable leaning against the window. "I'm going to sleep. Don't wake me if we're just gonna die from you going 110."

Rogers gave a soft laugh then tried to relax his tight grip on the wheel.

The sun had gone down when they made it to New York. The streets were as empty as Steve had ever seen them. It was eerie. Tension could be felt on every block. New Yorkers were tough, and they'd be the first to tell you just how tough. But New York had taken a beating recently. Now with the Mandarin on the loose and the President kidnapped, many in New York were taking the cautious route.

Finally pulling up to the Tower shouldn't have felt like coming home, yet it did.

The entrance to the underground parking was being manned by two security guards. Neither of them attempted to stop the truck when the gate opened without prompting. Tony had said that the Tower was always open. Perhaps he had meant it literally.

"Welcome back, Captain Rogers," Jarvis said after Rogers had maneuvered Sam's travel weary pickup into a spot beside Stark's glistening corvette.

Grabbing his bag and shutting the driver side door, he gave a ghost of a smile to the AI. "Thanks, Jarvis. Any word on Tony?"

"Yes, Captain," was the prompt reply. "If you would adjourn to the common floor for the Avengers I would be happy to provide you with further details."

"Any reason you can't tell me now," he inquired as he motioned Sam to follow him to the elevator.

"The Avengers levels are much more secure, Captain." Rogers understood. He said nothing further. Letting his head fall back against the elevator wall, he tried not to think of the one person who wouldn't be thrilled that he was returning. Darcy Lewis was not the type of girl to take kind of brush off he'd given her. She likely wouldn't speak to him, but he was fairly sure she wouldn't shoot at him as Peggy had once done.

As the elevator ascended, Sam finally asked. "Who is Jarvis?"

The ever-helpful Jarvis answered for him. "I am artificial intelligence created by Mr. Stark to assist in the running of his homes and the Iron Man suit. While within the Tower, Senior Airman Wilson, I will be able to assist with most anything you require."

Rogers smirked at Sam when he quirked an eyebrow. "Umm, thanks." A pause. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

"Your vehicle is still registered with the DMV, Senior Airman Wilson. I simply ran your license plate through the database to discover your identity," Jarvis replied as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

"You can just call me Wilson...You can access the DMV?" Sam's eyes had grown large and he was giving Rogers a look that simply said "seriously?".

"Without Mr. Stark's express permission, I am prohibited from discussing those particular aspects of my abilities."

The elevator opened with a ding and Steve took a step out.

He heard Sam say something in response to Jarvis but if asked Rogers would have to concede he couldn't recall what. All his attention was focused on the brunette standing only a dozen feet away. Her face was a study of shock. Open mouth, raised eyebrows, wide eyes. For a moment they were both still. The steaming coffee in her hand tilted precariously and then fell to the floor as she shot forward, faster than he expected.

He had enough presence of mind to drop his bag and bring his hands up to protect himself before she reached him. He expected a slap or a punch. Instead she practically tackled him in a hug. "You're here! Sweet baby Jesus, you feel good."

She must have realized what she said for she stiffened and pulled back. He let her go, still processing what had happened. She seemed to be doing the same.

Sam looked on in amusement. "Do all returning soldiers get that kind of greeting around here? Or is only Rogers that lucky," he asked as he hauled both of their bags out of the elevator allowing the door to close.

Darcy's eyes snapped to him. For a moment there was a glimpse of what Steve might have called panic in her face. Then that big smile bloomed and he thought perhaps he'd imagined it. "Have to say that was my first returning soldier, but I'm not opposed to the idea of making it a traditional greeting. You feeling left out, big guy?"

The smile Sam sported was one Rogers had seen a few times now. The first time had been when he'd seen Natasha. "Maybe a little. You offering to fix that for me?"

"I might be. Guess you'll have to leave and come back to test it out," she said, throwing him a wink.

Wilson laughed. He opened him mouth, probably to continue flirting but Rogers cut him off.

"What's happening with Stark," he asked Darcy.

Her smile fell away. He felt like a heal, but it needed addressed. If the change of topic also kept the two from their banter, he couldn't say he was disappointed.

"For a genius he is apparently the biggest idiot on the planet," she stated as she crossed her arms over her chest. "But he is alive. And Jarvis tells me that things are wrapping up."

"Indeed. Sir and Colonel Rhodes have things under control."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Under control? Are you kidding me?" She spun on her heal and headed for the coffee bar, bypassing the remains her last cup. "Come on," she called to the men. "Its a long story and I need a coffee before we get started."

Sam glanced at him as he watched her walk away. "You got a claim on that, Cap?"

Steve wanted to say yes. He wanted to punch Sam in the face for asking. But Bucky wasn't home yet. And Sam was probably a better fit for Darcy regardless. "No."

Hitching his bag up on his shoulder, Sam strode forward purposefully. "That's too bad. Truly," he said but the tone wasn't sympathetic in the least.

James Buchanan Barnes.

That was his name. Steve had said so. The display in the museum with his face on it had agreed.

He had been a soldier. A real soldier. Not a madman's plaything.

He had been a hero. Not a murderous beast.

There were flashes of the time before. The longer he was out of his handler's grasp, the more he remembered. But it was still scattered. Only pieces of a cracked mirror. Through them he could see slices of himself.

He knew Steve was looking for him. Others were looking too. He had to keep moving. Running was his only option now. He couldn't stop and he couldn't turn to Steve for help. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Steve was the biggest piece of his old life that he remembered, but the emotions were all jumbled. The only thing he could say for certain was that he trusted Steve Rogers. Trusted him with his life. With everything. He trusted Steve more than he trusted himself. Which was why he couldn't let Rogers catch up to him. There was no telling what his programming might do to the man who had been labeled his last target.

Until he knew for sure that he wouldn't kill Steve the minute he saw him, he would continue on his current mission solo. This mission was important. It would help him make up for his blood stained hands. It would help him learn about himself. It would help quench the thirst for revenge that burned him every waking moment.

Mission: Destroy Hydra.


	9. Chapter 9

The kitchen smelled like a bakery. Cookies, muffins, cupcakes, and brownies littered every available surface. Darcy felt no shame, though maybe a little embarrassment, as Steve and Sam followed her in.

Both men looked around with equal parts confusion and hunger. "You planning an Avenger's bake sale," Sam questioned uncertainly.

She laughed. "No. I've had a lot of time on my hands recently. Plus who doesn't like baked goods?" The statement was true, even if it wasn't quite all the truth. Baking was a stress-reliever for her, and the past few weeks had been nothing if not stressful. Thor and Jane were back, but Steve had been out of contact for a long time. Then Tony had done his "come and get me" stunt. It was enough to make her go a little crazy.

Jarivs, who over the last few months had been living up to his best friend title, felt the need to pipe in. "Indeed. Though Ms. Lewis' activities have necessitated ordering flour and sugar by the pallet."

Darcy rolled her eyes and took a long sip from her coffee. "You're hilarious," she finally said, completely dead-pan.

Truth was there had been many more than what was currently on display. She had been handing out her goodies to the building security teams, to the other science labs and research teams, to the daycare workers. Even the valets out front had benefited. Her original plan had been to donate them to a local charity but she had never made it out the front door. In the Tower she could have instant access to news on Steve. She hadn't been able to force herself too far away from that.

Jarvis had been with her every second. No judgment. No censure. He would place the orders for more ingredients when she requested. He managed the various timers when she was baking. He even helped compile the recipes she had in her head into a neat little cookbook that she could access on her laptop or with one of Tony's holographic monitors.

Sam broke her out of her thoughts. "So...I don't know about super solider over there but I'm starving. Any chance you have some blueberries muffins?"

With a wave she indicated a stack of plastic containers by the stove. Each one was labeled with a cute little tag in coordinating colors. There were lemon-poppy seed, apple, raisin, cinnamon, and of course blueberry. Sam fell on the box like a truly starving man. He ate two before he came up for air. "These are delicious. Try one, Rogers."

While Sam chewed, Steve had been hanging back. Darcy wasn't sure if it was because he was trying to discern her level of crazy, or if it was because he was feeling awkward with her after the way he had left. Or maybe it was due to the way she had mauled him when he arrived. (That had been real classy.)

As Sam picked up his third muffin he must have felt the rising tension for he paused to glance between them. "Hey Jarvis, this place got a bathroom," he asked as he took another large bite.

"Certainly, Wilson. If you would follow the lights."

Darcy caught the look he gave Steve as he exited, and she had to hide a smile behind her coffee cup. The only way it could have been clearer is if he'd written "deal with your shit" on his forehead.

Silence grew between them while she leaned back on the counter. Darcy hated silence, and it was obvious that if she let Steve set the pace of this conversation they'd still be standing in silence when Sam came back. Taking a fortifying breath, she spoke first. "If you don't want to talk about it, its cool with me. I mean I get it. Really. If you didn't want to be friends all you had to do was say so. I'm a big girl, I can take it. You don't always have to be 'apple pie and helping old ladies cross the street' just to avoid some unpleasantness. And I'm sorry about the hug earlier. Old habit. Won't happen again. Promise. Well maybe. I promise I won't be weird about it though. No crazy stalking your Facebook or anything. Not like you have a Facebook, but you do have fan sites and-Oh god I'm rambling. I -"

Steve had moved closer. She wasn't sure when exactly. But he was only inches from her now. He took the coffee from her nervous hands and set it on the counter behind her.

"I missed you too," he breathed on her lips. His eyes were burning as he looked down at her. She felt her legs tremble. Oh god, he was going to kiss her! She could see the intent on his face as hands rested themselves against her waist. She opened her mouth to say something. Anything.

"Please tell me we're staying," Sam's voice said from around the corner. Steve jumped back, the hungry expression that been in his eyes wiping away as if it had never been. By the time, Sam crossed the doorway Steve was on the other side of the room, his back to them both. "Because this is some pretty sweet set-up. And it comes with the best muffins," he said with a wink at her.

Trying to pull herself together she gave him a weak smile. She wasn't sure but there was probably a blush on her cheeks. She felt that mix of cold and hot that said her completion was showing something she'd rather keep to herself.

Sam's brow furrowed as he glanced between her and Steve's back. Thankfully he didn't comment or ask questions.

"I, um, I have to take care of something real quick. Jarvis can you fill them in on Tony for me?" She was rushing out before the question was even finished but she heard Jarvis respond in the affirmative.

Once in the elevator, she collapsed against the wall. This was too much. Did he want her? He certainly didn't act like it when anyone could see. But the way he had looked at her...

She didn't have the patience for this kind of game. She knew what she wanted, but she was realistic enough to know that it was never going to happen. And while she had no problem with casual sex, she didn't think that a one night stand would end in anything but heartache for her. So that was out. She wanted to scream.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Darcy."

"When the hell is Stark getting back?" She may not have been able to figure out Steve, but she understood Tony. The two of them were friends though Tony would deny it resolutely. She would also be able to take out all her frustration and mixed emotions on him when she felt like she couldn't do the same to Rogers.

"He should be returning within the week. Mrs. Potts will be accompanying him."

One week. No problem. She could vent her frustration in another way until she was able to go word for word in a sarcasm battle with Stark.

Jarvis' words proved true. Tony reappeared six days later, with one grim looking Pepper Potts in tow. Darcy had only met her twice before and one of those had been via a video conference, but she seemed different. Not physically maybe, but something was off.

Upon hearing of the couples return, all the Avengers in residence as well as Jane, Darcy, and Sam, met them on the common floor. There were introductions all around for Sam, then Tony took center stage with his usual charm. "All right, all right. Listen up. I'm assuming Jarvis has been keeping you all updated about the Mandarin."

"Yeah cause you can't answer phone calls," Darcy muttered.

Tony rolled his eyes but continued without a sarcastic rejoinder. "The Malibu property's been destroyed, which means I'll be in New York full time. Owing to that fact, Pepper will be moving here as well."

Pepper smiled when their eyes turned to her. "Tony asked me to marry him."

"Aww come on Pepper. I wanted to tell them," Tony whined.

"Ring or it didn't happen," Darcy demanded as she pushed past Thor to see Pepper's hand. Pepper held up the ring that was tasteful and brilliant like Pepper herself. Darcy was surprised. She had expected something more in line with Tony's over-the-top tastes. She reached forward but froze when Pepper snatched her hand back. The panicked movement seemed of place from Pepper's usual personality. Darcy waved it off. It was probably left over from Pepper's recent kidnapping.

"In other news," Tony said, pulling attention away from Pepper. "I'm no longer a dying man."

"No need to be so dramatic," Pepper chided. "The shrapnel in his chest was removed this past week. He's no longer in danger of it puncturing his heart."

"That's assuming he still has a heart," Darcy teased. Tony jumped right in with a witty retort. While they continued their banter, the rest congratulated Pepper about both pieces of happy news. There was an impromptu celebration that followed, during which Tony was allowed solely non-alcoholic drinks, due to the pain medication he was on.

Eventually the conversation turned to Steve and what he had been up to after SHEILD fell. Darcy knew that she wouldn't be able to hide her interest in this particular topic. Thankfully, everyone seemed as concerned as she had been. Steve's voice was quiet when he spoke about Bucky. Darcy's heart wept for the pain on his face when he said he was out of options for finding his friend.

"There are always more ways to fight," Thor imparted laying on hand on his shoulder. "I shall assist in any way I can."

"Me too," Tony broke in. "Come on Capsicle. You know we're all behind you."

It had been nearly three months since Pepper had moved into the Tower. During that time there had been some adjustments as their always were when new people joined a household. Overall, everyone was getting along splendidly. At least everyone else was, Darcy bemoaned, as she thought of Steve.

Steve and Sam were still looking for Bucky but now they had the force of the Stark name behind them. Even then it was slow going. Thor was assisting where he could between trips to the nine realms. Tony had gone into seclusion for a while, when he had finally emerged Pepper had seemed relieved. More her confident self. Stark had also been on a bender about upgrading the Tower's security (like the thing wasn't already a fortress).

Darcy was doing her usual business. She kept the scientists fed and watered. She baked, in more manageable quantities. She cooked dinner too, and included the full team when she measured for portions. She still assisted Jane, though Bruce had started asking for her help as well. With Pepper in house, she didn't have to keep such a close eye on Tony. When the red head went out of town though, she had her hands full with the billionaire. In her kinder moments, Darcy thought he annoyed her because he was lonely and she was the one least likely to take offense with his antics. When he did things to piss her off, like replacing all of the music on her iPod with 80's glam rock, she didn't feel quite as charitable.

She forgave him though. Especially since he upgraded her tazer with some Stark tracking tech that made it impossible for her to miss. He had also made the casing a lovely shade of violet. Darcy had purchased a handbag to match.

The other new addition in Darcy's life was Sam. After only a couple weeks living in the Tower he had approached her, offering to give her a break from the science crew. He had been smooth and kind and made her laugh. His company was easy. A slow spinning Ferris wheel. From day one it had been like that. Unfortunately that was all it was. After that first date and a chaste kiss, they had both agreed that it wasn't going to go any further than light flirting and friendship, but he kept taking her out. He said it was because they had to stick together as the two most normal people in the Tower. She couldn't really deny that claim when she compared them to the Norse god, the super soldier, the two geniuses, the fortune 500 CEO, or the alter-ego of an experiment gone haywire.

The strange part of these casual dates was that every time they went out, Steve seemed to catch them on the way home. The first time, he had been in the garage when Sam had pulled back in from driving her to dinner. Rogers had immediately pulled Wilson into a conversation about Bucky and dragged him away. Darcy had thought it odd, but hadn't commented. She was not going to interfere with anything having to do with Steve's search for his friend. The second time, Steve had been in the building lobby and had invited them to watch a movie with him as they had returned from a long stroll in Central Park. When they'd agreed, Darcy had not expected him to sit between them the entire time.

If it had been anyone else, Darcy might have thought Rogers was jealous.

The third time, Sam had been planning on taking her dancing. As she waited for the elevator to take her to the common level to meet Sam, she adjusted the knee-length skirt that hugged her hips. She usually didn't dress up. It was more convenient to wear jeans. However, Darcy loved to dance and dancing required dressing up. It was a rule. One of the Lewis life rules, along with always wear cute underwear in case you got injured and met a hot paramedic.

When the elevators opened, Steve had been standing stiffly against the back wall. He didn't say a word. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and glowered down at the floor, never meeting her eyes. Unsure of her welcome, she got on the car. The button for the common level was already lit. It was a strained ride, and thankfully short. As soon as the doors opened Darcy hurried off. Sam was waiting with a grin. "Hey good-lookin'," he called.

She felt Steve step off behind her. He was a pillar of disapproval. Sam looked at the good Captain over her shoulder and his grin only grew. "Ready to hit the dance floor," he asked her.

"Hell yeah," she said with her usual candor.

They had left arm in arm, Steve glaring at them until the elevator doors closed. "What was that about," she asked Sam.

He smirked and shrugged. "Might be I finally found something I can do faster than the Captain."

Darcy wasn't sure what that meant but she let it drop. Men were complicated.

The dates continued. So did Steve's scowling.

One day, Darcy was going over the meal plan for the next week while she lounged in Jane's lab when Sam popped in. Technically it was after hours. Of course, Dr. Foster never followed a typical 9-5 schedule.

"Hey, good-lookin'." He had been calling her that since that third date.

"Hey, Goose." It was appropriate nick-name for him even if stolen from Top Gun. She had started using the term after she found out about Sam's wings. Tony had been working on a replacement for the pair he had lost during the battle at the Triskelion. There had been several prototypes thus far but Sam had turned them all down due to Tony's unnecessary additions to the original design.

"Wanted to let you know I'm heading out for a while. Have to visit some of the family. They've been getting a bit concerned about me, and I was told if I don't put in an appearance they are all going to come up to visit. To spare you all the horror of that, I'm going to spend a couple weeks with everybody. Stark's even letting me borrow the jet." He paused and seemed to debate internally before he leaned down and gave her a whisper of a kiss on her forehead. "Don't let Cap get to you while I'm gone, okay?"

She ducked her head but hummed in the affirmative. Sam was a counselor and good at reading people. He knew she was interested in Steve, though he never offered unsolicited advice, which she appreciated. But he saw that she was hurt more than she let on by the way Steve had been acting around her.

He left quickly after that, and Darcy pushed his words out of her head. She was pretty good at burying things. Call it her ostrich defense. Letting herself get absorbed in the grocery order and the music Jarvis provided, she didn't notice time passing.

The blaring of an alarm had her nearly falling out of her seat in startlement. "Jarvis, what the hell?!"

"There has been a level 1 security breach. Please remain in the lab. Security protocols are activating. The lab will be lock down until the threat is neutralized."

Jane and Darcy watched as giant metal doors slid out of the ceiling outside the glass doors and locked into place. When Jane grabbed her hand, Darcy squeezed it in solidarity.

In the lab they couldn't hear anything except the sirens. When those suddenly cut out, the silence was deafening. The metal shielding blocking them in didn't budge telling Darcy that the threat wasn't over yet. Grabbing her purse, she dropped Jane's hand to dig for her tazer. Granted, anything that got past Stark's security probably wasn't going to go down from a tazer but it made her feel safer. Plus she had taken down a Norse god with this baby and that was before Tony's upgrade to it.

After several minutes of silence, Darcy became aware of a small scratching noise. Trying to track it down she hushed Jane by putting a finger to her lips. The sound was coming from above them. Peering up at the ceiling she spotted movement through the grate of one of the air vents. Her grip tightened on the tazer she had down by her side. The grate suddenly slammed outward falling straight down. A pair of legs could be seen as the owner swung down through the opening. Darcy saw muscled arms and blonde hair follow. The man was now hanging from the vent by only the strength of his arms. He paused probably calculating where to land due to the vast amount of equipment below him.

Darcy raised the tazer and fired. The prongs caught the man in the side. There was only half a second for him to register what had happened before volts started pouring through him. Immediately he lost his grip and came crashing down. He missed most of the equipment but his upper half hit the edge of one of the workstations before sliding to the ground.

There was silence between the two women as they looked at the fallen man.

Then Darcy spotted the bow and quiver strung over his back.

"Oh shit."

"Captain Rogers, Darcy is requesting your assistance in the labs." Jarvis' voice put him on full alert.

"Is she all right," he queried as he turned away from the building schematic he was going over with Thor.

"She appears to have caught one of the intruders."

Steve was running before Jarvis even finished the sentence. He took the stairs, the elevators were too slow. He knew she was alive, but scenarios were still running through his head. She could be injured in a million ways. But Jarvis would have told him that certainly.

Rogers was well aware that he had been a jerk lately. He couldn't seem to stop himself when it came to Darcy. Especially when he saw her with Sam. Yet she had still called on him specifically. It gave him hope.

As he approached Dr. Foster's lab, Jarvis raised the metal shielding. Through the glass he could see Darcy frantically pacing. Opening the door, he heard her speak. "Oh my god I killed him."

"He's not dead," Jane broke in from where she knelt beside a crumpled figure.

"I broke him. Oh my god. He's going to kill me."

Approaching Steve began to recognize the man sprawled on the floor though it had been a year since he had last seen him during the battle of New York. It was Clint Barton, better known as Hawkeye, the Avengers archer.

Darcy looked at him with wide panicked eyes. "I didn't know who it was. I mean who uses the air vents like a door? Are you sure I didn't kill him?"

He knew Darcy was panicking but he couldn't help the bubble of laughter that was rising in his throat. It poured out with more force than he was expecting. Then he couldn't stop. Jane looked at him bemusedly while Darcy looked like she might kick him. Still he couldn't stop.

It was the first time he had really laughed since finding out about Bucky. It felt good. All due to Darcy again.

He saw Barton stir and went to the man in case he came up swinging, but he kept one eye on Darcy. Right then he made himself a promise, when he found Bucky he was going to pursue whatever he felt for Darcy. If she was still interested by then. For now, he would let things stand, but he would come up with some way to apologize.

Natasha Romanov was gorgeous. She had the kind of body that Darcy wished she had, that she lusted over a little. But Darcy wasn't jealous. Really.

The only emotion Darcy was capable of right now was terror. That was because Natasha Romanov had a look in her eyes that said she could kill one measly lab assistant with her pinkie finger. When Natasha had demanded to know how Barton had ended up in his current state Darcy had grabbed onto her gonads and stepped up to take the blame. She was half wishing that she had kept her mouth shut.

Rogers was not helping the situation. He was still having a hard time keeping his laughter in check. At least he was attempting it. Tony was definitely not. The genius was keeping the length of the room between himself and the disapproving Black Widow though.

The slightly disoriented Barton was laying on one of the couches in the common room, recovering. He was taking the whole incident with good humor. "That's what I get for not using the front door, Tasha," he said reaching for her hand.

Natasha allowed him to take it, shifting her deadly glare away from one relieved Darcy Lewis. "No, that's what you get for being out of practice. Believe me, Barton, we're going to fix that."

Now the archer's face showed the same dismay that Darcy had been feeling. "I don't really think -"

"That's right you don't."

Barton snapped his mouth shut at her fierce tone. Darcy couldn't blame him. She had read about the Black Widow. All those files that had been dumped over the internet had sparked heated debates amongst fans and critics alike. Darcy would admit that she had been curious and had peeked. What few reports she had been able to find had been flattering about Natasha's skill, but to a civilian those skills were frightening.

"Next time you should call ahead before attempting to breach my security," Tony tossed in from his assured safe distance.

"If we had called ahead we wouldn't have gotten a true feel for your security's capabilities," Natasha replied.

"Plus we wouldn't have found out about your third layer of defense in the disguise of a lab assistant." That had been from Barton and it made Darcy huff a laugh. Which she quickly covered when Natasha's focused gaze came back to her.

Darcy wasn't sure if Natasha and Clint were 'together' but there were hints that they might be. Natasha's obvious disapproval to his injury being one of them. Now wasn't really the time to be wondering about it, but no one had ever accused Darcy of being appropriate or tactful.

"I'm really sorry again," she said. "If it will make make you feel better you can hit me back." She offered the violet tazer in Clint's direction. "Or you can have your impressive comrade-slash-girlfriend do it. I wouldn't mind tingling from anything she did to me."

The silence was remarkable.

The men had all frozen and were looking to Natasha for her reaction. The Russian bombshell narrowed her eyes slightly. "I can promise more than tingling," she said as a lascivious grin spread across her lips.

Barton lost it. His laughter spurred the others. Darcy looked down at him clutching his side before turning her gaze back to Natasha. She was smiling and that killer look had soften, giving Darcy a glimpse of the real girl beneath strings of contrivance. The infamous Black Widow probably wasn't aware that untrained Darcy Lewis could read the tension in her body at this friendly gathering, and Darcy was smart enough not to point it out. But she did want the only girl in this superhero boys club to feel at home. Darcy was sure she could find a way to make that happen.


	10. Chapter 10

The following day was Saturday. Darcy's favorite day. It meant doing what ever she pleased. She started with a long bath. The kind with bubbles and candles even though it was morning. She had her headphones in and was singing along about broken hearts and jealousy and losing yourself on the dance floor. The beat was good and it drown out all other noise. With eyes closed, she could enjoy the warmth of the water. Enveloped in the steam, she felt safe.

The song came to end. Darcy opened her eyes and almost dropped her sacred iPod.

Natasha stood over her with a smirk.

"Christ-on-a-cracker," Darcy sputtered as she yanked the headphones off. She made no attempted to cover up. Wasn't like she had something Natasha hadn't seen before. Plus if the scary Russian was going to go to the trouble of breaking into her bathroom, she had probably earned a peepshow.

Romanov gave her a once over then nodded as if in approval. "Get ready. We leave in ten," she said, turning to head back out the door.

"Excuse me!" Darcy realized her tone may have not been the most respectful of the assassin as Natasha gave her a raised eyebrow look from over her shoulder. "Where are we going? I mean, do I need snow-shoes or a bikini or cowboy boots? Give a girl a hint."

Natasha only smiled. "Nine minutes, thirty seconds."

"Dammit," Darcy muttered as she scrambled out of the tub. She was sure this was some kind of test. She wasn't sure if it was a measurement for whether she was worthy of Natasha's friendship. Or maybe it was just to see if she was useful enough to keep around. Darcy was fairly certain they were past the whole I'm-gonna-kill-you-for-shocking-my-boyfriend thing. But maybe not. This could be an elaborate ruse to lure her out of the Tower where it would be easier to hide her body.

"Seven minutes," Natasha's voice called from the living room.

Darcy squeaked as she tried to yank her jeans on faster than was probably safe. The ends of her hair were wet but she could deal with that. She was more worried about essentials: cute underwear, bra, eye-liner, mascara, shoes. Her socks didn't match. Her glasses were fogged up from being in the bathroom. That didn't matter. She grabbed her purse and checked to make sure her tazer, phone, and wallet were accounted for.

"Done," she announced as she skidded into the living room.

The red head gave her a pleased smile. "Two minutes to spare. Grab a coffee."

"Oh thank god," Darcy sighed with relief. She snatched a to-go mug from the kitchen cabinet and had it filled before her time was up.

Following Natasha into the elevator, she kept her questions to herself. Mostly because she had coffee to occupy her runaway mouth. They went out the front, Darcy throwing a wave to Arnie the security guard on the way. There was a car waiting. A man exited the driver's side and came around to open the door.

"Ms. Rushman," he said with the ghost of a smile.

"Happy," Natasha said in greeting.

"Will there be any costume changes this time around," he asked as she slid in. Natasha didn't bother to respond.

Darcy took the other seat and sat demurely while they waited for Happy to get in and start the engine. He seemed to know where they were headed as he didn't ask for a destination. The radio was on, but the lack of conversation was wearing on Darcy after the first five minutes. It didn't seem to bother the Natasha. Her gaze was straight ahead.

"Happy is Pepper's bodyguard. She's letting us borrow him for the day to play driver. We are going to need him to help with the bags as well."

"Bags?"

Now Natasha looked over at her. "Yes. If you are going to hang around Barton and myself you're going to need a few additions to your wardrobe."

The two women shared a smile and Darcy knew this was beginning of a beautiful relationship.

"Wait. These additions aren't going to include a catsuit right? Cause these," she indicated her cleavage, "really aren't going to cooperate with that plan."

"No catsuit," Natasha promised, laughing.

The first few stores had been normal enough. They had purchased long sleeve shirts and pants in (unsurprisingly) black. Then hats and leather gloves. They had also gotten things Darcy hadn't been expecting including medical grade shears, stainless steel tweezers, enough pantyhose to outfit the entire Tower (okay that was exaggeration, but at least enough for all the Avengers), a cheese grater, and watches. Not the serious outdoors-man watches that included compasses and a little pocket for matches. These were dainty silver things that had no other purpose than telling time.

Darcy wasn't certain if all these things were related and Natasha was planning on using them on an upcoming mission. Or if the ex-Russian was just messing with her. (She was kinda leaning toward the latter especially with the cheese grater.) She refrained from asking.

The last store they visited was very different and far outside the city. It was little boutique that looked like it had been around for a half century or more. Natasha told Happy to wait in the car for this one as they wouldn't have much in the way of bags.

Entering Darcy heard a little chime of bells and the sound of a shotgun being cocked. Behind the counter were two old women. One holding the shotgun who spoke with menace. "You are not welcome here, ребенок."

Natasha had responded with something in Russian which caused the other woman to lay a hand on the weapon and force it down. "How can we help you," she said sweetly in unaccented English.

Apparently Natasha had a list for this place. She handed it over to the second woman. Darcy knew better than to ask, even when the first lady put down the gun. The second woman named Alina, began taking Darcy's measurements. This of course made the younger woman nervous. "You promised no catsuits," she called to Natasha who was browsing through several glass cases in the back.

Her only answer was a laugh.

Natasha kept her promise. There were no catsuits. There were some odd additions though. One had been a garter belt with a holster for her tazer. Her eyebrows had risen to her hairline when Alina explained what the garment was for. Another was a pair of lovely heeled boots that had hollow compartments in the sole. "For whatever the situation might call for," Natasha had told her.

While Natasha was busy in the changing room, Alina had leaned in close and in a low voice asked, "Who are you to her?"

"I'm - a friend, I guess. Why?"

Alina had gazed at her suspiciously before answering. "She has never brought another here before."

Darcy wasn't sure what to make of that, but it stayed on her mind as they returned to the Tower.

Clint was waiting in the garage when they arrived. "Welcome back, ladies. I figured you might need help with your haul."

"Bless you," Darcy said with conviction as she handed over a dozen bags into his waiting arms.

He gave gruff huff of laughter. "Don't think I've been blessed in years, kid. But I appreciate the sentiment." Waving her to the elevator, he called over his shoulder, "I'm gonna take this up for her, Nat. I'll come back in a minute to give you hand."

There wasn't a verbal response from the assassin but the two shared some kind of mystic communication that reduced an entire conversation to a set of eyebrow quirks and pursing lips.

Once the doors for the elevator closed, Barton grinned at her. "Thank you," he said. "Nat's been wound too tight ever since L-New York. You're good for her, but don't ask me why. Just keep being yourself and I'll be grateful." Darcy caught the way he brushed over Loki's name, but she was too taken aback by the rest of it to formulate a response.

The stop came for her floor and Barton helped her unload her bags into the entryway. He stepped back into the elevator, then stopped the door from closing with his foot. "I will be grateful, but don't think this makes us even for the tazer. Just a warning, kid." The door slid closed on his mischievously smiling face.

The next time Darcy stepped out of the Tower a week later she was on a mission. A mission to destroy Barton. She had on the super cute boots Natasha had gotten her. There was nothing in the secret compartments, Darcy just really liked how they looked plus they made her feel bad-ass. Stomping past the security desk in the lobby she threw Arnie a distracted wave. She couldn't stop to talk right now.

Hailing a taxi, she went to gather her necessary supplies. Her phone rang while she walked the aisles of the store that had been her destination. It was Thor's ringtone, a cliched rumble of thunder and crash of lightening. Odd. Thor never called her. Darcy wasn't quite certain that he liked the Midgardian device. He seemed to prefer having all his conversations face to face.

"Hello," she answered.

"Hey, kid." Barton. Her eyes narrowed and she glanced around on the off chance he had followed her.

"What do you want? And why do you have Thor's phone?"

He chuckled. "Thor's being a buddy and letting me borrow it. I wasn't sure you'd answer if I called from my number. Not that you have my number. We'll have to fix that." His tone was flirtatious but Darcy knew it was all for show. She actually enjoyed his playfulness most of the time. Now it wasn't so cute.

She let her silence tell him the level of her annoyance.

"I was calling to check on you. The net may have been pushing it. I realize that now. Tony really wanted me to test it out though and you always help with his experiments. There's no need to get upset."

"The net?! You think the net was the last straw." The net incident had been this morning. He had been testing one of the new arrows Tony had developed for him. The net itself was made of some stretchy material and the ends had powerful magnets which drew them together to capture the target. That had actually been funny after she'd gotten out. No the last straw had been when she had opened up her drawer of snacks in Jane's lab and found every last delicious chocolate missing. Only the wrappers left to taunt her.

"Oh," Barton said, finally realizing his mistake.

"You never come between a Lewis and her chocolate, Barton."

"Now Darcy," he tried for a consolatory tone. "I understand that there may have been a miscommunication about limits here, but there's no need to do anything rash."

"I'm not doing anything rash. I've thought this out very carefully," she said as she lifted the Super Soaker off the shelf.

"Lewis."

"Barton."

She could tell he was smiling now. "Bring it," he said and disconnected the call.

Oh she was going to bring it all right.

Darcy Lewis may not have been listed on the official Avenger's roster, but when she declared that Sunday nights were team bonding time no one argued. In the case of Tony and Barton, their silence may be have been due to Natasha's warning look from over Darcy's shoulder. For some unknown reason, to the men of the Tower at least, Natasha had taken Darcy under her wing like a younger sister. Sam had been the one to report it to Rogers first. He'd caught the two women discussing shades of red nail polish with the seriousness of how to disable atomic weapons.

Steve knew better than to ask either of the women if that was true. In the past he had been unsure how to speak to women and may have made that mistake. He understood a bit better now. Part of it may have been the new century he found himself in. Here women were more likely to speak their minds, more likely to be independent. Like Darcy.

The movie nights were a good idea. It helped with the team bonding. Though he had to admit that they were doing pretty well without it. They had been meshing in training sessions as well as in the Tower over the last couple months. Each of them had found their niche and without even discussing particulars they found a way to work cohesively.

Bruce had taken over outfitting the floor Tony had set up for medical. He had interviewed the best doctors and come up with several who would be on rotation along with a full time nursing staff. Of course, Tony had opened up the facilities for office workers in the building as well. He attempted to play it off as Pepper's idea but Steve was beginning to see through the billionaire's deflecting tactics. Pepper had put herself in charge of public relations for the Avengers and had been doing a fabulous job. Surprisingly when she had come looking for a spokesperson it had been Thor she'd gone after. Rogers had been ready to do his duty as a dancing monkey again, but it was unnecessary. While Thor was sometimes a bit rough around the edges he was Asgardian royalty, and he could bear that mantle with dignity when called upon.

Rogers found himself balancing his search for Bucky with running team practices and testing tactics. Even Stark had agreed with Steve taking over combat command. "Who better than a Captain to lead this merry band," he had quipped when questioned for his opinion. Tony was the mechanic. He had given himself the title. He was upgrading all their weapons and armor, excluding "Thor's magical shit" (Tony's words). However, he had given up on being in charge of building security. That had been handed over to one Maria Hill, ex-Deputy Director of SHIELD. She was handling it with precision and seemed serene no matter what level of crisis arose. Under her watch, Natasha and Clint had been unable to get past the third floor when they suddenly felt the need to test out the Tower defenses.

Natasha wasn't only skulking around in her catsuit. Though Steve thought she sometimes did so just for fun. The Black Widow had blown all her covers, true. But now the whole world knew not to cross her, and she used that to the Avengers advantage. She was making contacts, racking up favors owed to her, and setting up her own network of intelligence gatherers. Rogers may have been tired of the spy game but he still understood the need for such things. The fact that Natasha's contacts were assisting in the search for Bucky may have helped sway his opinion. Barton often would go with Natasha to act as her handler and back-up. Once in a while, Steve would catch Natasha slipping out alone. Those times she looked more grim than usual and Clint wouldn't been seen for a few days.

Steve would admit that he was slow to realize what was happening. Truth be told, he only put it together because he ran into a bleary-eyed Sam one morning after seeing Natasha leave solo the night before. Sam had stumbled and righted himself against the wall. "Sorry, Cap. Didn't see you coming?"

"You alright, Sam?"

"Just a sleepless night. Nothing to worry about."

The turmoil in his eyes told a different story. "Yeah. You want to try that again, son," he asked as he crossed his arms.

Sam huffed a weak laugh before growing serious. "I'm sorry Cap. I haven't got a right to tell you as its not my story. Hopefully I can explain it someday soon." With that he'd shuffled off to find his bed.

At first, Steve had thought that it had been something to do with Darcy. However, the brunette was perky as ever and seemed untroubled when he saw her a few hours later. "What's up, Rogers," she asked as she stirred the pasta sauce she had simmering on the stove. Her hips swayed gently to the music Jarvis had playing through the rooms speakers.

"You can call me Steve, you know."

Her shoulders had tensed at his words and her response had the barest hesitation to it. "Sure thing. Steve it is."

Obviously they weren't back to the easy banter they used to have. "I was wondering if I could request a movie for this Sunday. Bruce mentioned it during our last chess match and I'll admit I'm interested."

Now she faced him and smiled. "I'm sure we can accommodate. Do you know what its called?"

"_Jurassic Park_."

"Really? I'm surprised Bruce would want to watch something even remotely about genetic experiments gone wrong. Maybe he's finally been talking to Sam."

"Why would Bruce be talking to Sam," he asked.

Darcy gave him a look like she thought he might be a little stupid. "Sam is a counselor," she said as if that explained everything. He was sure his face didn't show signs of enlightenment so she continued. "You've talked to him, right? He's good at what he does. No pressure. I haven't had a session with him or anything but I'm pretty sure Tony has, and I know Thor definitely went. Most of his time lately has been with Barton at Natasha's request. Though I'm not supposed to know that so you better keep your patriotic lips sealed," she said, pointing her spoon at him.

He bit back a chuckled and nodded. "Consider them sealed."

"Good."

He hadn't been sure how to continue the conversation from there so he had seen his way out. It had been enlightening though. It made sense that Sam was counseling the Avengers. They all had traumas in their pasts, demons that clawed at them. Most of them even had recent traumas. Barton had walked around with a god in his head. That was bound to screw with him. It was a testament to Clint's strength that he appeared as steady as ever. He wondered if the reason none of them had seen Clint since the battle of New York had been because the man was trying to heal. That lead him to thinking about Natasha and how she had never mentioned Barton the whole time they had worked together in D.C. Had she been protecting him? Or had Barton been keeping her away?

What about now? Darcy had said that Natasha had requested Sam's help, not that Clint had asked for it.

Curiosity ate at him, but he wouldn't pry. Privacy was important to him. If his teammates didn't want to discuss these things with him then he wasn't going to force them.

He did have to know if Barton was functioning though. As the de facto Captain of this team he had to know what the strength and weakness were of each of them. If Clint wasn't ready to be out in the field with them then he had to know. He would ask Natasha. She was always blunt with him even when it exposed her own flaws.

When Natasha returned from her solo mission, he was able to catch her in the gym, running through her intense stretching routine. As Steve watched from the door, he noted that it wasn't like the tranquil techniques Banner used during his yoga sessions. Natasha's movements were impassioned. She pushed her limits and he wondered if she was fighting against her demons or if she was punishing herself.

It was easy to tell when she became aware of his presence. Her movements loosened and slowed. She was reeling it all back in, all those turbulent emotions she had revealed. That brief glimpse of what she hid made Steve wonder if Natasha was talking to Sam too.

"What can I do for you, Cap," she asked as she flowed into a lotus pose.

He remained leaning against the door frame, keeping the tension from his body. This would not be an easy conversation, but he was going to face it head on. "Is Barton clear headed enough to be active?"

Her eyes tracked to his but there was no other reaction from her body. He could see in her gaze that she understood all the implications of the question, but she didn't hesitate with her answer. "Yes. He's clear to be on the active roster." She sighed and slide to her feet. "His issues won't influence his performance in the field. Sam is only working with him at my request."

"And what about you?"

Now her eyes grew cold. "What about me?"

"Are you working with Sam too?"

Her eyes narrowed and her fingers flexed the tiniest bit as if she was keeping herself from going for a weapon. "Not that its any of your business Rogers, but no. I have my own outlets."

Steve was smart enough not to question what those were. He had already pushed her far enough for today. "Then we're good," he said instead.

She gave a curt nod and exited to the showers without a backward glance.

For the next two days, Steve stayed out of Natasha's way. She prowled around like a cat with a sore paw and was likely to hiss at any one that got too close. The only person who seemed oblivious of the danger was Darcy. The girl had gumption and showed it on the third day of Natasha's sore mood.

Bruce and Steve had been having their chess match in the common area, which had become a weekly ritual. This time Thor was observing. He was attempting to learn this "Midgardian game of logic and strategy". Both men were happy to teach him and were explaining moves as they played. Darcy was in the kitchen and they could hear her singing along to whatever song was pumping through her headphones. Steve smiled when he heard her hit a particularly high note.

"She has a decent voice," Bruce comment, not taking his eyes from the chessboard.

"Indeed," Thor heartily agreed. "Darcy is most talented. She is reminiscent of the departed Frigga, a true keeper of the hearth," he complimented as he took a bite from the strawberry pop-tarts Darcy made sure were always on hand for him.

They all knew of Frigga. Thor had talked about his deceased mother on more than one occasion. This was the first Steve had heard the Asgardian compare her to Darcy though. Steve opened his mouth intending to ask about the "keeper of the hearth" bit but Darcy choose that moment to dance her way into the room, distracting him. She was carrying a tray of freshly baked muffins in one hand that she placed on the dining table. Then she produced a rag from her back pocket and began dusting, still swaying her hips in tune with the music though she limited herself to only humming.

Steve had known that there wasn't a cleaning staff for the Avengers levels. Once a month, Tony had a company come in to clean things like the gym and communal showers. The personal apartments were kept by each person and everyone cleaned up after themselves when using the common areas. The rest of day-to-day cleaning of the common areas was managed by Tony's various robots. It hadn't really occurred to Steve that there were some jobs that the robots probably weren't suited for.

"She's been doing that since she got here," Bruce commented, as if he had been following along with Steve thoughts. Rogers turned back Bruce and saw the man's small knowing smile. "I'm not sure how she does it, but nothing ever seems to collect dust around here or in the labs. And there are never any crumbs or coffee rings on the counters down there either, which doesn't usually happen in research labs."

Rogers wasn't sure how to respond to that. He had the feeling that Bruce was trying to push them together in much the way that Natasha had tried to throw various potential partners at him back in D.C.

As if thoughts of her had summoned the assassin, Natasha came off the elevator. Her eyes flicked over the men with disdain, but she said nothing as she walked by. She headed for the muffins on the table, but was intercepted by one dancing Darcy. She grabbed at Natasha's hand and bounced their hips together.

"We should totally go dancing," Darcy exclaimed, her voice louder than necessary due to the headphones. "Come on, Tasha."

Bruce and Steve shared a look at the nickname.

"I'll agree to that training session you've been bugging me about if you come dancing," Darcy bargained. That made the Russian smile.

"Only if Clint can tag along," she responded loud enough for the brunette to hear.

"Deal," Darcy squealed as she shimmied against the older woman. Natasha allowed it and even swayed a little to the music she couldn't hear. "Oh, I can total wear that garter belt we got!"

Steve had to swallow to wet his dry throat. An image flashed through his mind of Darcy and Natasha trying out lingerie together. A glance at Bruce's face revealed a blush which told him the man was imagining the same thing. Thor didn't seem to understand what a garter belt was or maybe he didn't find the idea appealing as he just continued to munch on his pop-tarts.

Natasha's eyes snapped to them and she gave them a small glare, daring them to say anything. None of them were stupid enough to open their mouths. Thankfully, Darcy dragged Natasha off into the kitchen allowing the men to let out the breaths they had been holding.

"I, um, I have to...go," Bruce mumbled as he stood and hurried to the elevator. Steve wasn't certain but he thought he heard the beep of the man's heart rate monitor beneath the ding of the elevator.

Steve excused himself as well. He definitely needed a cold shower.

_Jurassic Park _had been a big hit on movie night. Rogers had to admit that it had been one of the better movies they had played so far. Darcy declared that they couldn't watch only the first one, so the next two successive movie nights had been the sequels. The week following, the women, including Pepper, ganged up and demanded _Dirty Dancing_. That had prompted Barton to request_ To Wong Foo, _stating that it was the best thing Patrick Swayze had ever done besides _Road House_. No one had really objected, but the smirk Barton had given him when he said the title made Steve think there was something about it that Barton thought would make him uncomfortable.

Steve was not worried. Most of the 21st century didn't shock him as much as everyone assumed. It wasn't as if there had been no homosexuals or cross-dressers or sex back in the 40's. People hadn't been as likely to flaunt those things back then. Nor had cameras been so readily available as they were now. Harder to air the neighbor's dirty laundry to the world if you didn't have some sort of proof.

Though he didn't really care what movie they were going to watch, he was looking forward to movie night. Ever since _Jurassic Park_, he had been sitting next to Darcy. By some unspoken agreement, the rest of the team made sure that the seat beside Darcy always remained open for him. Darcy either didn't seem to notice or she didn't mind. They were slowly working their way back to the closeness they'd had during the first two weeks they had known each other. Due to movie night, Steve always had a safe topic to talk to her about. And if, under the cover of the darkness, he found excuses to whisper questions in her ear or touch her hand all to the better. They were always legitimate questions though, he didn't want her suspicious of his motivations yet. He still hadn't found a way to apologize properly to her yet, but he had apologized to Sam.

Wilson had only laughed at him. "Man, if you think I had a chance, you need to get your eyes checked," he had said.

Regardless of Sam's insinuation, Steve wasn't sure Darcy would be on board for more than friendship. He knew he was ready. The only thing holding him back was Bucky.

As they watched three drag queens raid the only boutique in the small town, he caught Darcy's grin out of the corner of his eye. She was beautiful, especially when she smiled. It suddenly occurred to him that he had never told her that. He should.

There were many things he had never told Bucky. He thought he had lost his chance when Bucky fell into that ravine. He thought he would never be able tell Bucky that he had always been more than a friend, that he had been more than brother. And that Steve had secretly dreamed of other ways they might be close.

He had never opened his mouth because those secret dreams were things that the neighbors would have disapproved of. And he never knew Bucky's thoughts on the subject because he'd never been brave enough to ask. Now he might not get that chance even though Bucky was still alive. It was obvious that they weren't going to catch Bucky. No matter how hard they searched or what tactic they used, they were always a step or two behind.

And it wasn't like Bucky was going to give them a clue.

Abruptly his phone rang, drawing groans from Tony and Barton. "Jesus, Rogers, don't you have any manners," Tony taunted.

Steve rolled his eyes but ignored them. Pulling his phone from his pocket he found the screen displaying a blocked number. His hand hesitated over the answer button, but he couldn't ignore any calls.

"Hello?"

"Captain Rogers," a eerily familiar voice said. "I was wondering if I might get you to sign those trading cards. Fury finally gave them back."

Steve felt the punch to his gut, and he tried not to react. Next to him he felt Darcy stiffen. She knew something was wrong. She scrambled for the remote and muted the movie.

Into the silence, he spoke one word. "Coulson." Everyone froze.

"Yes, sir."

"You're alive." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, sir. I would be quite happy to tell you the whole story, when you come to headquarters."

"What makes you think I'm going to come?" Anger was burning in his chest. Coulson had been alive. Fury had known. Another betrayal.

"I seem to have found something of yours. Or should I say, he found us."


	11. Chapter 11

His name was James Buchanan Barnes. Steve called him Bucky.

Those were facts, but he still reminded himself of them every time he woke. It helped to orient him. Those names, that identity, they were something he would never let be taken from him again. He would put himself down before he became Hydra's dog once more.

He was doing better. The last eight months on his own had made the memories clearer, more cohesive. But he still wasn't whole. He knew that he might never be.

The mission was his version of therapy. Every agent of Hydra he dispatched, every base he bombed, every research facility he torched, assisted his rehabilitation. At first he had gone after Hydra with the cold determination that had made him such a successful Asset for them. There had been no emotion as he plotted and executed. As his more of his memories surfaced and he could recall the emotions attached to them, he had worried that Steve might not approve of his tactics. Of course that was before he had gotten his hands on the SHIELD files that had been dumped online. Turned out Stevie was no longer the innocent boy he had been. Still those thoughts of Steve kept him centered, helped him find direction. 'What would Steve do' became his yardstick for where to draw the line.

Those exposed files benefited him in other ways too. Bucky was able to learn about the Avengers and about the battle in New York. He learned about Tony Stark and the Tower. When he found an image of Natasha Romanov he was blindsided with a memory of a previous mission. It was blurry around the edges but he was certain he had shot the woman through the abdomen. While he read about them, the new team of Steve's, part of his mind was cataloging weaknesses and ways to exploit them. He couldn't quite turn that analytic killer inside him off. That more than anything told him he was still broken But the larger part of him, the part that was still waking, was less cutthroat. The kinder side was simply envious that these people were so close to Steve when he couldn't be.

Using the information online as a springboard he was able to track down several more Hydra bases he hadn't been aware of. The first few fell easily at his hand. At the last one, he ran into an unexpected complication: SHIELD. Turned out SHIELD wasn't as dead as the world governments would like their people to believe.

The team was small, only six in total, against three dozen Hydra agents. They were surrounded and certainly didn't have enough backup to get them out. Bucky debated leaving them, but he couldn't. That wasn't the kind of man he had been, the kind of man he was trying to be. And it wasn't the kind of man Steve was.

He moved silently, circling around behind the enemy, while the Hydra leader spoke with one of the SHIELD team. He had to hand it to the SHIELD agent, who looked more like a bureaucrat more than a spy, he remained calm and soft spoken though he was certainly staring death in the face. The man looked vaguely familiar and Bucky wondered if he had seen him among the dossiers he'd been reading.

The first three Hydra puppets never even felt death coming as Bucky slit their throats. He was able to get to another four before the rest were alerted to his presence. Then it became war. He whirled and sliced, his body slipping into the Winter Soldier persona that his muscles remembered. When he lost his knife he used whatever was at hand as a weapon, including the bodies of his enemies. The SHIELD team used the distraction of his destructive presence to get themselves to a more defensible position then assisted in taking out the nearest targets.

It was over quickly. None of Hydra had escaped. They undoubtedly had not been prepared for their former Asset to appear.

Bucky knew he was covered in blood and that the old him would be distressed by that but his pulse was still pounding with the heat of battle. It was always hard for him to come back down from a fight. The red haze around his vision told him parts of his programming were still in play. The force of that programming was always strongest when he called on the Winter Soldier for tactics and strength.

Cautiously the SHIELD team came out into the open, as Bucky breathed away the executioner that still roamed his mind. The leader stepped forward, surveying the carnage with disinterest. "Thank you for the assist," he said in that soft-spoken voice. "I'm Director Coulson," he introduced, extending his hand. His smile was bland but honest.

Bucky didn't take it. He didn't like touching other people. The only time he ever did was when he killed them. He looked pointedly down at the extended hand then back up at the man's face. The hand withdrew.

"We would be happy to take you where ever you need to go next, Sergeant Barnes."

A woman with Asian features stepped up beside Coulson. The man may have appeared harmless on the surface but this woman walked with danger in her stride. "You know him?"

"Well not personally, no. But I have the cards for all the Howling Commandos."

That Bucky remembered. Images flashed through his mind like the panels of an old projector film. He remembered the war and the 107th. He remembered Dum Dum's trademark bowler hat. He remembered Falsworth and Gabe and Jim Morita. He remembered them all. They were all gone now. All except Steve, who had led them, who had saved them.

"_The_ Howling Commandos," a young man asked stepping forward.

"Yes, Trip," Coulson responded. "Don't you recognize him from your grandfather's old pictures?"

Bucky's focus switched the younger man at that. He stared hard at his face and the young man stared right back. Bucky could see it. The resemblance was vague, but if Gabe had been standing beside this kid Bucky would have known they were related. Trip took a second longer to place him. He didn't blame the kid, he hardly looked like the clean-cut man he used to be. His hair was still long, and his face bore continual stubble as he often forgot to shave.

"Oh my god, you are him."

Bucky still said nothing, though he tilted his head the barest bit in acknowledgment. He hadn't spoken since that last conversation with Steve while they fell through the sky above the Potomac. It was like his words had locked themselves up when he walked away from Steve on that river bank.

Coulson seemed to sense that all conversation with him was going to be one-sided. "May, prep the quin-jet. We're going back to headquarters." The woman gave a curt nod and stalked off calling instructions to the other members of the team. "You're welcome to join us, Sergeant Barnes," he offered, as he turned.

Bucky said nothing but he fell into step behind the older man. He was still filtering through his memories to place this man. He didn't think the man was working for Hydra, but something tugged at his mind saying that Coulson was important. Until he figured it out he was going to keep Coulson close.

The new SHIELD headquarters were not nearly as imposing as the last one had been. Of course, SHIELD was considered an outlaw organization now and needed to keep their profile a little lower. The ride to the facility had been made in tense silence. Not that Bucky was bothered. All the SHIELD agents, excluding Coulson, kept staring at him when they thought he wasn't looking. Bucky was well aware of their scrutiny, he simply choose to ignore it.

When they had landed, Coulson had tried to hand him off to a young woman he called Skye. "She'll give you the ten cent tour and get you settled into room. You're welcome to stay as long as you like." Coulson had turned obviously thinking that he would follow the young woman without protest. Bucky ducked around the young woman and took up position in middle of the hall to block Coulson's way. It was a clear statement.

All the agents who witnessed the move went for their weapons. Bucky didn't bother to lay a hand on his own yet. He would see what Coulson did first. Plus he was confident in his own abilities. No one here would be able to match him.

The man was surely surprised by the move but his face remained impassive as ever. He put up a hand to show he meant no harm. "It's all right," he called to the other agents. "Put your guns down."

"But sir," someone protested.

"I said put them down," Coulson said his voice firm but not a decibel louder. Bucky was impressed with the man for that.

The guns trained on him lowered, but not a single one was holstered. Smart, thought Bucky.

"I take it you object to the tour," the director said, though Bucky understood it was question. He shook his head minutely. A minor look of confusion crossed Coulson's face. It cleared away as quickly as it had come. "You want to stay with me." The man was quick.

Bucky didn't even bother to nod to that, he let his direct gaze stand as his only answer.

"All right," Coulson finally conceded with a nod. The older man stepped to the side with exaggerated slowness and moved around him. Bucky allowed it and followed after throwing a defiant look to the rest of the room.

Once in Coulson's office, Bucky took an easily defensible position close to the window with line of sight to the door. Coulson refrained from comment and instead went right to work. Someone else might have thought the director was ignoring him, but Bucky knew better. Coulson was well aware of every movement he made, every breath he took, and every tensing of his muscles. The director was not an ignorant man. He was, however, a brave one.

After a few quiet minutes, where Coulson went through several files that had been piled on his desk, the woman from before returned. May's gaze was suspicious when it flicked over him. "Sir, I don't think this is a good idea."

"I never said it was," Coulson quipped. "But you saw him at the warehouse. He's obviously had some form of Erskine's super serum. It would explain why he's still alive and why he hardly looks older than when he disappeared. Do you really want to try to fight him on anything he wants?"

May's gaze flicked over him again, considering. "No."

"And we can't leave him out there to fight Hydra by himself. That leaves us with only one option."

"Which is," May questioned.

Coulson picked up his phone. "We call the Avengers."

May's eyes widened. "Phil, you know why you can't do that. They think you're dead."

Bucky's memory finally clicked into place at that. Phil Coulson. The agent killed on the Helicarrier by Loki's own hand just before the battle of New York. The one whose death had brought the Avengers together.

"I think its about time they know the truth," he said as he punched the number on his phone.

Out of the corner of his eye Bucky saw May tense and lay a hand on her gun. Bucky stilled and realized that he had been reaching for his knife without knowing it. It had been instinct. Though if it had been from his own subconscious or the programming he didn't know. He purposely relaxed his arm and let his hand rest at his side. May's stance still screamed distrust but she lowered her hand.

Phil was calling Steve. Bucky knew he had to make a decision now. Should he stay and let Steve find him? Should he run? Should he stop Coulson before the call connected?

Bucky took a deep calming breath. The fact that he wasn't already running told him that his heart had already made the decision. He would stay.

"Captain Rogers, I was wondering if I might get you to sign those trading cards. Fury finally gave them back."

There was silence in Stark's jet. Even Tony didn't have anything to say. The call from Phil had shaken them each in different ways. Natasha and Clint seemed the most disturbed. Neither had spoken since Steve had said Coulson's name.

They were on their way to the new SHIELD headquarters, where Coulson was not only alive but directing things. Steve wasn't sure how he felt about that. There was too much chaos in his mind right now to sort it all through. The dominating thought was that he was going to see Bucky.

Phil had explained how Bucky had appeared, how he had saved the SHIELD team. He said that Bucky was unhurt physically but further questions about his state had received only stilted answers.

"Is he there," Steve had finally asked, surmising that was the reason for Phil's vague answers.

"Yes," had been the one word reply.

"Can you go somewhere else?"

There had been a pause then as if Coulson had made the attempt. "I don't think that's feasible at the moment," Phil had replied with a stiffness to his voice.

At that point there had been muffled swearing and the sound of a door shutting before a woman's voice came on the line. "Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes is refusing to leave Coulson's side. He isn't speaking and honestly I'm not very certain of his mental state. We need you to retrieve him immediately. If he isn't stable then you are his best option for care or to contain him. There is no one here who would stand a chance against him if he lost control."

"I understand," he told the woman, because he did. He knew that no one would be able to deal with Bucky if he was still under Hydra's control. But it was still a hard pill to swallow. He didn't want people to see Bucky as any thing other than the kind man he had once been.

Lost in thought he didn't hear Sam approaching until the man took the seat across from him. He didn't say anything, but Steve understood that there was an invitation on the table for him to listen. "I appreciate you coming," he said. Lifting his head he looked at all of them, his team. "I appreciate all of you coming."

Surprisingly it was Thor who responded, his voice a muted form of his usual boom. "This man is your brother. He may have been lost with his demons, but he is finding his way home. You worry for his soul and we would not abandon you to carry that burden alone."

Steve had no response. He felt tears burning behind his eyes. The others nodded their own agreement to Thor's pronouncement.

For the first time, Steve saw these people as not only his friends but his family. They were. They had been for some time, he simply hadn't recognized it. He would do better. He would bring Bucky home. He would figure out how to make everything work. There was a chance that he could have everything he ever wanted he wasn't going to let that slip through his fingers.

Coulson was waiting when the jet landed though it was past two in the morning. He seemed the same as ever. Unflappable. He wore a small but genuine smile as his eyes touched on each one of them.

Tony stepped up first, always brash to cover his emotions. "So Agent, you're looking well. What's your secret?"

Phil remained as impassive as ever. "An experimental restorative formula made from alien DNA," he said blandly.

Even Stark didn't have a snappy comeback for that.

Glancing around, Steve tried to spot Bucky. Coulson caught him at it. "He's here. In the shadows at your eleven o'clock, forty feet back. He doesn't like being out in the open. And this is the furthest away he's been from me since he arrived. I'd like to think it's my magnetic personality... but I believe he was only using me to get to you."

The wording had Natasha tensing. "To contact you," Phil corrected.

"Has he said anything," Sam asked.

Steve was too busy to ask questions. His eyes were searching the shadows trying to make out Bucky's form.

"No. I believe that he is able to physically. Our doctors were only able to do a visual examination though, when he stripped in the middle of the lab."

"He - what?"

Coulson looked regretful now. "It may have been my fault. I had been showing him around the facility, and had noticed he was uncomfortable in the lab setting. I suggested that he might want to change clothes before you arrived as a way to steer him out of there. I didn't anticipate that he would take 'let's get you out of those clothes' as a direct order."

Steve's gut clenched. He remembered the way Bucky had been tied down in that Hydra lab when he had first rescued the 107th. It stood to reason that their tactics hadn't changed. Bucky had likely been in many laboratories over the years as they tortured him and drained away his humanity. Of course he would obey any order given to him while in that setting.

Sam sucked in a breath, likely putting it together for himself. "Did he attempt to harm anyone after that? Or did he attempt to harm himself," Wilson queried.

Logically, Steve knew that Sam was asking these questions to try to determine Bucky's state of mind, but Steve hated it. He hated the pitying undertone. Bucky had never wanted pity. In that regard they had been the same their whole lives. They had always charged forward with no thought for their own suffering. They had both been wiling to give their lives so long as the other had lived. Fate had played such horrible games with that devotion, but Steve wouldn't allow it anymore.

He knew his fists were clenched at his sides, but he couldn't seem to uncurl his fingers. He wanted to lash out. He wanted to pound into Schmidt and Zola and Pierce. He wanted to squeeze the life out of each of them for the part they had played in all this.

Sucking in a deep breath, he reminded himself that Bucky was here. Bucky was alive. They had come to the future and even if they had taken their own roads to get here they were going to be together again.

Around him the conversation had continued. He tuned back in as Coulson explained why his team had been at the Hydra warehouse. "It was supposed to be a simple storage facility for some of the odder things Hydra had acquired. All reports indicated that the security was minimal. Our interest was in a set of genetic modification chemicals they supposedly are planning to use to create perfect undercover agents."

"That's a cheery thought," Tony commented.

"They haven't been able to prefect the technique yet,"Phil assured. His face remained bland as he glanced behind him, obviously checking to see what Bucky was up to.

Steve could make him out now. He was a shadow amongst the other shadows. The only thing that gave him away was the faint glint of the lights on his metal arm when he moved it.

Coulson looked to Steve then addressed the rest of the gathered Avengers. "If you would follow me inside, I'd be happy to explain everything else. I have to warn you that my team are eager to meet you...so please don't scare them Stark."

While Tony snarked back with something witty, the team moved away. Steve knew they weren't going far. If Bucky attempted to harm him they would be close by to contain him.

It nearly killed him to remain standing there while Bucky watched him from the shadows. But he didn't want to rush his friend.

The minutes ticked by and Steve breathed deeply to relax his tense muscles. Time didn't matter. He could be as patient as needed. All that mattered was making sure Bucky felt comfortable with his presence.

The metal plates of Bucky's prosthetic arm reflected the runway lights as he glided forward. When he stepped out far enough for his face to be seen, Steve froze. This was Bucky. His Bucky. He was a bit scruffy around the edges and his hair was still long but he no longer looked like the hollow man Hydra had made him. Even across the distance separating them, Steve could see that Bucky's blue eyes were clear.

"Bucky." Relief laced his tone.

As Bucky paused, Steve feared that he had read his best friend wrong. Don't make me fight him again, he begged the God he hoped was still listening.

Bucky's head tilted slightly as he studied him. Then that devil-may-care grin curved his lips.

Steve's heart beat out a quick tattoo. He watched Bucky swallow twice. Though he opened his mouth nothing came out. Frustration crossed his features. His words were still lost. Steve wanted to tell Bucky that it would be okay, that they would fix this, but he found his own throat clogged. Now wasn't a time for words anyway.

He couldn't hold back any longer. Neither could Bucky. They met in the middle, arms circling each other in an embrace that was familiar though it had been decades since the last time. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes as he held on to the man he had lost. His warmth enveloped Steve. The heartbeat that pounded against his chest assured him that this was real, Bucky was here. Steve's grip tightened in thankfulness.

"Stevie." The voice was harsh from disuse. Steve didn't care. He had his Bucky back.


	12. Chapter 12

The plane was quiet on the way back to the Tower. Bucky understood that these people didn't trust him. That was fine. He didn't trust them either.

Steve was the reason he was here. Steve's opinion was the only one that mattered. The rest could watch him warily or with suspicion. He was unfazed.

As he had been ushered onto the jet, Bucky discovered something new about himself: He didn't like flying. It was hard to say if the dislike was left over from his old life or a more recent development. He only knew that he didn't like it. It made him nervous. He would much rather drive. In a car he could control the situation better. He would be able to handle threats better. That wasn't to say that he didn't know how to fly. He did. He could remember clearly piloting several different styles of planes. But that had been under orders, as part of the mission. And nothing, not even his own fear, had been more important than the mission.

Glancing out the window on his left, he tried not to think about how helpless they were. Reliant on the weak metal and plastic around them. At least he would be able to see a threat coming from this side. Steve had insisted that he take the window seat. Bucky was unsure if it was because his team wanted Steve as a buffer between them and the Winter Soldier or if Steve had read the distaste he had for this mode of transportation. Either way, Steve had insisted and Bucky could not deny the man anything, especially something so insignificant. Rogers, of course, had taken the seat beside him.

Thankfully Steve hadn't attempted to start a conversation. Bucky didn't think he could talk in front of all these strangers. He had barely been able to force out Steve's name before, but he could feel words building in the back of his throat now. There were so many thing he had to tell this man who had been his friend for so long. Even with the pressure of those words on his tongue he couldn't let them loose with all these witnesses. These words were for Steve. No one else.

Seeing Steve coming off the plane had been a jump-start to his memory. As if Steve's mere presence had unlocked a door in his brain, the images and emotions of those long past days had poured in. He remembered fearing for Steve when he had been much smaller. He remembered the terror of hearing Steve's wheezing breath, sitting up through the night to assure himself that Steve kept on breathing. He could see the black eye and split lip Steve sported after taking on a man twice his size for trying to go after a neighborhood girl when she had already turned him down. Bucky remembered tracking the bully down later that night and making sure the man had far more colorful injuries. There were countless times when Bucky'd had to drag Steve out of some trouble he'd gotten himself into. Bucky always protected Steve, mostly from himself. Even after Steve became Captain America, he remembered fearing for him. With his body matching his lion's heart, Steve was reckless without meaning to be, charging into battle with no thought to his own safety. He would raid a Hydra stronghold with nothing more than his shield and a single pistol. Bucky had understood that he couldn't ask Steve to stop. Instead he had put his own sniper skills to use keeping Steve safe. He made sure he was the one who always had Steve's back.

He knew that Steve hadn't joined the army to die. He wanted to make a difference. Bucky understood that. Only Steve often seemed to have very little regard for his own life, when he treasured everyone else's no matter their religion, or race, or gender, or political views. That was why Bucky had to protect him all the time. That was what had made him first fall in love with him.

Bucky remembered loving Steve. It was one of those facts, like his name, that simply was. He couldn't even tell when he had first remembered that. It had always been there, floating around in his consciousness.

Now sitting beside Steve, Bucky suddenly was struck by the thought that maybe that passion had all been in his head. He couldn't tell if the visions he recalled of kissing Steve had been real or dreams or simply false. Some things were still muddled in his mind.

Unfortunately Steve wasn't giving him any helpful hints. He had embraced Bucky with such excitement and happiness but he hadn't kissed him or said anything that would give him a clue. Maybe they had only been friends. Maybe he had been too scared in his old life to bring those things to light.

He wasn't the same man now. There was no fear. He was cautious however. He didn't want to lose Steve when he'd only gotten him back hours before. He would have to test the water and proceed carefully.

He pondered Steve's hand resting on the armrest between them. Tired but refusing to rest, Steve was pouring over some sort of files. Bucky had the suspicion that they were about various doctors to help with his healing.

To test his friend theory, Bucky laid his hand on Steve's. Immediately his hand turned over and Steve laced their fingers together, but he didn't even look up from the file.

The contact was strange...but nice. Bucky couldn't remember the last time someone had held his hand. And he was fairly certain Steve had never done it before. His muscles remembered more than his mind and they said that this feeling was new.

Though the test didn't help to clear things up, Bucky kept his hand there, palm to palm with Steve. It felt far too good to let go.

Darcy was baking. Again. (No judging!)

Slamming a cupboard, she huffed with frustration. "Damnit Jarvis. I thought you said you got more brown sugar."

"Of course, Dacy. It is on the third shelf in the cabinet to your left."

Silence prevailed with Darcy located the missing ingredient. Snatching it with more force than was strictly necessary, she returned to the mixer where her latest creation was in progress.

"May I suggest that you try to sleep before the Avengers return, Darcy. You have not slept for over twenty-four hours."

"You can always suggest it," she snapped as she ripped open the package of brown sugar.

She knew she was being snappy with her favorite AI, but Darcy was freaking out. Yes, freaking out. Not panicking. There was no panic here. But a little freak-out...yeah.

Sure, Tasha had been teaching her self-defense (she was pretty miserable at it to be honest) and Barton had been teaching her to shoot (though the only guns she owned were the Super Soaker and the pellet gun she had bought to up the ante with Clint). But she was not sure she was prepare for an unbalanced scary assassin to be living here, though she had displayed only confidence to everyone else.

Before the Avengers had all piled into Stark's private jet and gone to fetch Steve's best friend, they had called a meeting. Well Pepper had called a meeting. The Avengers themselves seemed to be reeling about Coulson being alive and lying to them about it. Darcy hadn't know the man very well, but she had liked the sassy little iPod thief.

Considering most everyone they needed for the meeting was already there for movie night it had been easy. The only addition had been the ever-impressive Maria Hill. Darcy liked Maria. She was an ass-kicker and took no one's bullshit.

The meeting had gone quickly with Maria doing most of the talking. She had been briefed about Bucky when she had agreed to manage security for Stark Industries and the Tower itself. She gave the civilians (aka Jane, Pepper, and Darcy) the run-down with no fuss and her sharp looks kept Tony's commentary to a minimum. Then she had explained the options.

"Because we can't predict the metal state of Sergeant Barnes, there are several options available to ensure your safety. The first is that we can move you to another location." Both Pepper and Jane had balked at that. Jane's work was here, along with her boyfriend, and Pepper wanted to be close to Tony. (The weird thing was Pepper honestly didn't seem nearly as concerned as she should have been about the scary assassin.)

"In that case," Maria had continued over their protests, "we can restrict Sergeant Barnes to Captain Rogers' floor until he can be considered stable or we can move him to a secondary location until that time." At the pronouncement, Darcy caught Steve's flinch. The whole situation was probably eating him alive inside. Darcy knew that she was the last person anyone was likely to ask for their opinion but someone had to be on Barnes' side and Steve wasn't in any condition to put up a protest. He looked shell-shocked. Not as bad as when he'd been arrested in D.C. (thank Jesus) but Darcy could still see it. She was going to have to stand for the super soldier twins.

Hiding her fidgeting fingers beneath the table she cleared her throat. Gazes turned to her. "Why does he have to be restricted? Can't we just give him a chaperone? I mean, Steve could take him and Thor definitely. Tony too, if he suits up." Bruce could too but she said nothing. She knew he didn't like hauling out the Hulk unless it was an emergency.

There was a stark silence while they all looked at her with varying expressions. The only one she was concerned with was Steve. There she saw hope.

In for a penny, she thought. "The apartment floors are already restricted and can be changed by the occupant. Right, Jarvis?"

"Indeed, Darcy," her digital buddy replied.

"And you monitor everyone based on bio-signatures right?"

"Yes, all of the Avengers' levels are based on biometric security."

"So you'll know the minute Sergeant Barnes' heart rate spikes, or whatever, right? And you can sound an alert for everyone. Us civilians can take cover, or whatever. And you Avengers can handle it, if the chaperone hasn't already."

Tony was looking at her like she had grown a second head. Natasha was giving one of those unreadable eyebrow quirks, while Barton just looked wide-eyed. Sam and Bruce both sported smirks. The rest were displaying various levels of surprise.

"What," she demanded after thirty seconds of uncomfortable silence. "I thought the whole point was to help him, not treat him like a Hydra prisoner."

Maria took the reigns back at that point. "Any objections to that plan?" Silence. "I'll work up a chaperone schedule then, though I'm assuming Rogers will be taking most of that duty." He nodded in assent. "I'll work on protocols with Jarvis as well. We should be able to have those in place by the time you return with Sergeant Barnes." She threw a look at Darcy that gave the younger woman a shiver. "Civilians will remain behind and be briefed on safety protocols."

Darcy followed that order. While the Avengers had departed, Steve had caught her eye and given her a thankful smile. Bruce had seen the exchange but he'd only given her a nod as he followed the rest out.

Darcy had done a pretty good job of seeming confident through the whole briefing. She had even tossed in the tidbit about training with Natasha. Maria had seemed surprised by that but unimpressed. When it all over and Maria had retreated to the security offices, Jane had scurried back to her lab where she felt more comfortable. Pepper had claimed tiredness and sought her bed. It had been getting late at that point but Darcy was far to wired up.

Instead of seeking her own bed, she had begun raiding the kitchen. She had started with quiche, telling herself that everyone would need food when they returned and quiche was good for breakfast or brunch or anytime really. A few hours later she had made muffins, banana nut bread, cinnamon rolls, and coffee cake. She couldn't think of any other breakfasty items to make so she had moved onto cookies. The hours passed for her through a fog of flour. Eventually exhaustion started to eat at her but her mind refused to give in. Her thought patterns were edging into incoherency as the morning light poured through the windows. She kept picturing her death via Winter Soldier. It wasn't pretty.

"Jarvis?" He hadn't spoken to her for the last hour, ever since he had tried to recommend sleep.

"Yes, Darcy?" His answer was as quick as always. Jarvis held no grudges. Well none against her.

"Is there like a privacy mode or something you can do? I really don't want Stark pulling this up later."

"Privacy mode activated."

"Thanks, Jarvis." She took a moment to search for her words. "Was I really naive to think that this chaperone plan will work?"

For a second there was a pause. "I do not believe that it was naive, Darcy. However, I feel compelled to point out that Miss Hill's plans were much more sound from a security perspective."

"That's what I thought. Steve looked so miserable though. Like he's getting his best friend back, but that same man might kill all his new friends and that would be a bummer."

"Surely a bummer," Jarvis replied with a hint of that British sarcasm.

The oven beeped and Darcy pulled out the strawberry jam thumbprint cookies. "I'm being serious Jarvis. It doesn't happen often so pay attention."

"Of course, Darcy."

"I was hoping that...I mean, what I told them was true. If the point is to help him then we can't treat him like a prisoner right?"

"I would have to agree, Darcy, but many of the reactions humans have to any given situation can be unpredictable. It could be that Sergeant Barnes would not care either way."

"But this will be better for Steve," she stated confidently as she slid the next tray into the oven and closed the door.

"I would have to agree, Darcy."

Finally she felt the panic slide off her. (Yeah she was now admitting that there had been a little panic.) This would work. Steve would be more comfortable having his friend here if he didn't have to worry about everyone's safety. And Barnes would be more comfortable being free.

Taking a seat at the kitchen bar, she laid her head on her arm. Releasing her tight grip on the panic had let the need for sleep roll in. She would close her eyes for only a moment. The buzzer for the cookies would be going off soon. Then she would clean up and head to bed. She would have Jarvis wake her up when the jet landed so she had time to get up and dressed.

Everything was going to work out.

A hand on her shoulder had her jumping awake. She kicked out and flailed. Her hand made contact with someone's face, but her legs hit the wall and caused her chair to tip precariously.

Suddenly Steve was there to steady her. "I've got you," he said as she tried to grab for the counter. He gently lowered the chair back onto all four legs.

Barton stood beside her rubbing at his head where she had smacked him. "Nice arm, Lewis."

"Stuff it, Barton," she snapped. Her heart was still pounding from being startled and she hadn't had her coffee yet.

Steve still had his hands on her chair. As she looked over her shoulder, she took in the sight of him. He looked tired but happy. It must have gone well. That was when she noticed his silent shadow. Standing behind Steve and off to one side was the returned Sergeant Barnes. In the course of everyone talking about him, she had known that he had a prosthetic metal arm. No one had mentioned that he was hot. Jesus. He was a bit grungy but Darcy could see the potential. "Do all men from the 40's look like you two? Cause Tony totally needs to get on making me a time machine if that's the case."

Her eyes went wide when she realized that she'd said it out-loud. Her brain to mouth filter was definitely not working without liquid fuel (coffee - keep up here people).

The scary assassin was staring at her. Oh my god, she thought. He's gonna kill me. I'm dead. Deady-dead-dead.

When the devilish smirk lifted the side of his lips, she felt a cool breeze of relief and a burning whip of desire. Damn. She could seem the echo of charm this man was capable of in that small expression.

Steve was smiling too. He chuckled a little as he stepped back. "I think even Stark might have trouble with a time machine. Plus you probably got the best one of the bunch back there," he said throwing a thumb in Barnes' direction.

Darcy's brain stuttered on that. Was Steve saying... I need coffee, she thought. Once she had her daily douse things would be more clear.

It was Barton that saved her. "I think you need some more sleep, kid."

She nodded and began to slid off the chair. As her feet touched down, she saw the mess around her and moved to start cleaning up. "No, we've got it. You go to bed, sestrenka," Natasha said. Darcy didn't even bat an eye at the term. She wasn't sure what it meant but Natasha had been using it for awhile. She nodded her assent to the idea.

As she passed by Sam, he gave her a look that clearly said they needed to talk. Later. She was going to sleep now.

Shuffling off to her room, she tried not to dwell on how badly that first meeting had gone. But at least she wasn't dead. So there was that.

It was possible Bucky owed Tony Stark a thank you. Not that he was going to give the genius that kind of satisfaction while he stood smirking in the garage of the Tower.

As they had arrived at the Tower, Tony had immediately began calling out instructions to his computerized companion, Jarvis. Those instructions had included ordering Chinese, providing Bucky with access to Jarvis' assistance, and giving Bucky a full body scan. Bucky had braced himself, expecting pain or some other sensation.

"Download Barnes' scans to the lab," the billionaire had said turning to face him. Bucky realized it was done already. Ever scan or test Hydra had given him had included pain. He almost couldn't grasp the concept that something medical or scientific in nature could be done to him without it.

"We're got to get your tech upgraded," Tony said and motioned to his prosthetic arm dismissively. "Seriously, have they not upgraded that thing since the cold war started?" It was rhetorical obviously as Tony kept right on talking. "Even if I can't do all the upgrades I'm thinking of, and let's be honest I know I can, I can at least reduce the pain. Your nerve endings are flaming. Are you doing some kind of zen pain-masking thing like those yogis Banner is always on about?"

Of course, Bucky didn't respond. But Tony hadn't really waited for an answer. He'd charged on ahead into the elevator and told Jarvis to drop him at the lab. Thor hopped on with him. "I must make sure Lady Jane is not still entrenched in her research."

When Bucky had glanced at Steve, he'd shrugged. "She has a habit of forgetting to sleep and eat. Tony has the same problem. They even have a scientist wrangler on staff to keep an eye on those two." Steve smiled wide at that. "She's a pistol," was all he offered to Bucky's inquiring look.

The elevator had returned then and the rest of the team started to pile in. Bucky could deal with elevators. Small spaces didn't bother him. However, Dr. Banner and the blonde, Hawkeye, both tensed as the doors closed. Bruce got off first at his own floor. Everyone else headed to the common floor. It had been a long night and hunger was starting to make stomachs growl. Especially Steve's. The serum had super-charged his metabolism. Bucky had the same problem, but he'd learned how to forcibly slow it down. Sometimes there wasn't time for a pit stop during a mission.

Stepping off the elevator offered a stunning view of the New York skyline. It also offered a variety of tantalizing smells. As they hit his nose, his own stomach gave a murmur.

Steve smiled at him and lead the way to the kitchen. As they entered, Bucky caught sight of a spill of dark hair on the counter. The woman looked young and innocent with her glasses skewed on her face.

Barton gave an over exaggerated sigh with a mischievous glint to his eyes. "I got it," he said stepping forward.

"Behave," Natasha instructed. It was the first thing Bucky had heard her say.

Barton turned to protest but Natasha's warning look had him backing down. "Fine," he huffed. As he turned back to the sleeping figure, he tossed out a question to Jarivs. "How long as she been like this?"

"Approximately 30 minutes. She fell into full sleep as the jet landed. As I did not wish to wake her, I turned off the oven to prevent an accident."

"Yeah cause it'd be a real shame to set the kitchen on fire after she made all these," Barton said motioning to the multitude of foodstuffs on the counters. When he laid a hand on her shoulder intending to wake her, he got more than he bargained for. She came awake all at once and ungracefully. She was definitely civilian. No trained agent would ever react like that.

In that split second when her chair began to tip back, he took a step forward as if he might catch her but Steve was there first. His voice was gentle as he spoke to her. The tone held a certain note of fondness that made Bucky's eyes narrow.

At the corner of his vision, he caught Natasha watching him for a reaction and schooled his expression.

When the newly woken woman snapped at Barton, Bucky fought to keep back a chuckle. Her gaze was assessing as she looked Steve over. Then those blue eyes landed on him. He saw the small flare of desire and felt an answering one in his gut. Well that was interesting. Still he kept his face blank.

Of course that was before she opened her mouth. "Do all men from the 40's look like you two? Cause Tony totally needs to get on making me a time machine if that's the case." He watched her eyes widened. The mix of emotions there was...endearing? He wasn't sure what to call the emotion he was feeling, but the fear and embarrassment in her face broke his resolve to be expressionless. The charming smirk that lifted his lips was an old familiar friend. One he hadn't seen in ages, since before the war when he'd chased after dames for himself and Steve. The smirk brought back that spark of desire in her eyes he'd seen before.

Steve took over then. The punk had gotten better at handling the fairer sex.

Her gaze slid away from him, but he kept his on her. As she finally stood, he took in her curves and hollows. She looked good. Damn good.

He wasn't the only one watching as she walked away. Steve's eyes followed her progress as well. Interesting.

This little civilian scientist wrangler was intriguing. She had been the first person he'd met, besides Steve, who knew what he was and showed no suspicion. She hadn't been the least bit nervous to speak what was on her mind. She had stirred more emotions in him than any other dame he'd meant since he'd been free of Hydra, and he didn't even know her name. He would remedy that.

He took a deep breath and tried not to sigh. All these feeling running rampant inside him were tiring. He needed time to assess and focus on a strategy.

Steve handed him a warm cinnamon roll. As the sweet icing coated his tongue he wondered if the woman who'd made it would taste as good.


	13. Chapter 13

When Darcy woke, she could hear the television playing in her living room. Without a doubt, it was Natasha. No one else would let themselves in only to watch television. Clint would break in, for sure, but he would be silent until he sprung his latest prank. Everyone else would knock. Well... Tony probably wouldn't bother knocking but he had no interest in anything on this floor.

Darcy had only slept for a few hours. She wanted to sleep more but if she did that she'd be up all night and throw off tomorrow's schedule. Today was mostly a loss as far as work but everyone else was going to be on the same weird cycle so it wouldn't be a problem.

Staring at the ceiling her treacherous mind felt the need to replay her earlier meeting with Barnes. When she'd called Rogers and Barnes the super soldier twins in her mind she hadn't realized how apt the title was. They were both gorgeously sculpted examples of the male physique. And she'd basically blurted her attraction like a hormonal teenager. Not to say that she wasn't feeling like a hormonal teenager (because she totally was), but she hadn't meant to act like one. Giving a frustrated growl, she rolled over and buried her face in her pillow. You're about as smooth as sandpaper, Lewis, she thought.

"Are you getting up, or do I have to come in there," she heard Natasha ask.

Her sarcastic reply was muffled by the cotton.

There was no sound of footsteps to warn of Natasha's approach. A shift of the mattress told Darcy that the woman had taken a seat beside her. "Come on, sestrenka. You need a round in the gym."

Darcy turned her head and looked up at the woman lounging against her headboard. "Are you calling me fat," she asked with narrowed eyes.

Natasha's eyebrow rose as she gazed down at the younger woman. "No. I'm saying the best thing for embarrassment is to sweat it out."

They stared at each other while Darcy debated. Finally she capitulated. "You're good," she told Natasha as she unraveled herself from her bed sheets.

"Always."

That made Darcy giggle as she headed for the bathroom. "If you're gonna make me sweat," she called over her shoulder, "at least buy me a coffee first."

Shutting the bathroom door, she heard Natasha laugh. "I can't afford it. I'm still technically unemployed remember." The second statement was true. The Avengers didn't receive weekly paychecks, but Tony provided them all with anything they needed. Plus Darcy had the sneaking suspicion that Natasha had other means of income.

Rolling her eyes, Darcy got ready for their workout. When she exited the bathroom Natasha did have a cup of coffee waiting for her. Darcy wallowed in her caffeinated heaven as she followed Natasha down to the gym. It was fully outfitted with everything a spy might need, and everything was reinforced for those who had super strength among them.

Natasha had been drilling her for a few months now. Even so, Darcy didn't feel like she was making much progress. She had the stretches down, but her form was not nearly as impressive as Tasha's. When Darcy complained about the fact, Natasha would only say that she had a few more years of practice and not to worry about it so much.

Sometimes their workouts would be cardio or weights after the stretching. Sometimes, like today, it was a round of self-defense training. Darcy hated these days. She was appreciative of Natasha trying to teach her, but she was awful. Next to Natasha, she looked like a baby giraffe trying to walk for the first time. She was all flailing limbs and uncoordinated disaster, while Tasha was deadly grace and perfection.

"You know this is why I have a tazer," she informed the assassin (not for the first time).

"Which could be taken from you easily," Natasha responded (as she always did).

When Natasha declared that she was finished, Darcy collapsed onto the mat. Spread out like a sweaty starfish, she proceeded to do her "cool down", which basically consisted of her breathing and trying not to move. Meanwhile, Natasha was doing her own practice. Watching the ex-Russian was hypnotic. Focused on the rhythmic movements, Darcy wasn't prepared when Tasha made a suggestion.

"It might be a good time for you to visit your family."

Her breathing hitched the slightest bit, and she knew Natasha had noticed as she ended her sequence prematurely. Darcy closed her eyes, trying to hide. She was not ready for this particular subject.

"We all have pasts here, sestrenka."

She kept her eyes firmly shut. It was easier to confess when she couldn't see. "Yeah. But you used yours to become stronger. I just..." She gave a shrug. "It didn't make me stronger. It made me pathetic."

Suddenly Natasha was there looming over her. Darcy lifted her lids to see Natasha's glowering face. "You are not pathetic. I don't want to hear that again." Her tone left no room for argument.

"Okay," Darcy agreed holding up her hands in surrender.

Natasha still scowled down at her. "You're done. Go shower up."

Getting to her feet, Darcy couldn't help but poke at her. "Yes, ma'am," she said as she gave a salute. She squeaked in alarm when Natasha darted forward. The Black Widow didn't give chase, and Darcy laughed as she ran through the swinging door to the locker room.

Beneath the spray of the shower, she tried to let the memories wash away. They slid away slowly, leaving behind a hollow ache. Snapping off the knob, she huffed in self-disgust. Get it together, Lewis, she told herself. No one wants to hear your sad little story.

The pep-talk and some killer tunes from Jarvis helped to get her mood back on track. As she went through her day that hollow ache faded. It was hard for Darcy to feel sorry for herself when she was surrounded with luxury and friends.

A few hours later she was delivering a late afternoon snack (in lieu of lunch) to Bruce, when she had another reminder of her past.

Bruce was engrossed in whatever research he was doing. Classical music wafted through the air and Darcy began to hum along.

"I'm surprised you recognize Drigo's work," Bruce commented, glancing up from his microscope.

"Out of all the things the Professor used to play, this was one of my favorites." She smiled softly. "I never knew the names though. If I'd ever asked he wold probably have gone on for hours."

Bruce was watching her now. Studying her. She immediately felt the power of that big brain. Uh oh.

"The professor," he asked oh-so-casually.

Darcy knew she had miss-stepped, and that Bruce wouldn't be likely to drop it. Sure he wouldn't say anything else now. But she had gotten to know him. He was sneaky. He would wait until you were relaxed and not paying attention. Then he'd squeeze out a few more details at a time until he had all the answers that he wanted. It was better just to give him a satisfactory answer now. "Yeah. He was my Aunt's boyfriend. I ended up staying with him during high school. He was an actual professor in classical literature and spent almost all his time reading. The man would be so buried in a book, he'd forget to eat. Gave me good practice for dealing with single-minded geniuses," she said with a wink as she set the plate of food she had brought in front of him.

"Which reminds me I haven't checked on Tony yet. See you at dinner, big guy," she said with a wave. She could tell by his expression that he wasn't fooled by her distraction tactics. Damn.

As dinner approached, Darcy was in the kitchen debating her strategy. She had the sinking feeling that neither Natasha nor Bruce were going to let her little revelations go. The question now was whether to play it all off casually with a laugh or tell it straight out. Only Jane had really heard anything remotely close to the whole truth. But these people were superheros, all with their own burdens. They didn't need to hear her sob story.

The oven beeped and Darcy went to retrieve the biscuits. When she straightened, she nearly dropped the baking sheet.

"For fucks sake, Tasha! I swear I'm gonna make Barton put a bell on you."

Natasha gave her signature smirk. "I'd like to see you try to talk him into that."

The tray made a small clang as she dropped it on to the counter. "Is there a particular reason you're sneaking up on me?" She watched the other woman as she removed the red, white, and blue oven mitts (a gift from Sam and Clint).

For the first time since they had met, Darcy saw Natasha hesitate. "I won't pry, but if you ever want to compare scars I'm here."

Darcy could see what that offer cost the older woman. It was the most open sentence Natasha had ever uttered to her. Not normally a big crier, Darcy could feel the tears gathering. She had always been a hugger though, so it was no surprise that she found herself throwing her arms around Tasha.

"Sounds good. Then after you can help me take down Barton in celebration."

Natasha laughed and disengaged herself from the hug. "You know the only reason you've been able to hit him with that squirt gun is because he lets you."

"Shhhhh...Don't ruin this for me. Besides he's been teaching me, one day I'm going to surprise him." She didn't mention the paint-ball gun. She hadn't pulled that out of her arsenal yet.

Natasha shook her head at the brunette's antics, then her face sobered. "I did have a reason for suggesting that family visit."

"Oh whats that," Darcy asked as she pulled down plates and set them in a pile on the counter. Dinner was always done buffet style when she cooked.

"I don't think you should be around Barnes until Tony's doctors and Sam have a chance to really evaluate him."

While Darcy could see the wisdom of that she wasn't going to run. "No, I'm staying here. If Jane and Pepper aren't being forced out then neither am I."

There was a slight pout to Natasha's lips but she nodded. "All right. But you are to promise never to be alone with him. Do you understand?"

"I got it. I promise. No pulling the Soldier into the closet for seven minutes in heaven," Darcy replied with an eyebrow wiggle reminiscent of Stark.

Natasha was not amused. Her arms crossed and she opened her mouth to undoubtedly give some sort of threat, but Darcy was saved by the appearance of Steve. He paused awkwardly in the doorway. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Darcy?"

"Of course," she said.

Natasha excused herself but Darcy had the feeling she was somewhere close by, listening.

Steve took a few more steps in, but he seemed unsure. It was odd to see him that way. He took a deep breath then spoke in a rush that had Darcy blinking with surprise. "I know you were the one to suggest the chaperone system for Bucky, but I want to make sure you're all right with him joining us for dinner. Thor's with him right now in case you're worried. I'm not sure if he'll actually want to come down or not but I wanted to check with you first. He might not be great company as he's not talking much but he seems to think he knows most of his triggers so chances of him having any sort of panic attack or flashback is unlikely. But there is always the possibility. And I definitely don't want you to be uncomfortable or afraid. Not that you are afraid. I just-"

"Steve," she said laying a hand on his arm and bringing his verbal vomit to an end. "Its fine. I trust you. And if you believe Bucky is fine then he will be fine." Darcy was surprised to find that what she said was true. She truly believed in him.

The smile Steve gave her was bright enough to blind. Sweet Jesus, he was beautiful.

He reached forward and gathered her into his arms, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. "Thank you, Darcy," he sighed with thankfulness.

"No problem," she replied as he released her. Her insides were shaking but her voice was even. "So go ask Barnes if he's joining us or not. I made enough for the entire state of Rhode Island and I certainly don't want it to go to waste."

Steve hurried off. Darcy took a deep breath and tried to focus while her body shook with craving. It wanted more of Steve's heat. Sweet Jesus.

The dining table was lengthy. It had to be in order to accommodate all the Avengers and their significant others...and one lab assistant.

Sitting at one head, Darcy felt a little like a medieval lady or queen gazing down at her subjects. The image made her smile. Barton, who was at the other end, saw it and gave her questioning look but she only shook her head. He definitely didn't need to know what she was thinking.

Usually everyone sat where ever they wanted or landed. Today was different. Today Barnes was among them. Darcy wasn't sure who had decided on the arrangement, but she knew that someone had put thought into tonight's seating. If Barnes did have an episode, as everyone believed he eventually would, the Avengers were prepared to contain him. To her right sat Steve, then Barnes, Sam, Thor, and Jane. Barton was straight down from her at the other head giving him a "bird's eye" view of the situation. To her left was Natahsa, then Bruce, Tony, and Pepper.

"You know if we pick up any more strays we're going to need a bigger table," Tony commented, motioning to the sole empty chair between him and Bruce.

Beside her Steve bristled, but he said nothing as Sam laughed. "Hey, we aren't strays anymore. We've been adopted. I got dog tags to prove it," he said as he lifted the edge of the chain around his neck.

The causal joking brought down the tension level. Side conversations started and the easy camaraderie they usually shared began to show. Darcy could see they were still wary though. Each of them, excluding Steve, would throw glances in Barnes' direction as if he was a bomb they were expecting to blow.

Well this isn't going to work, she thought. The point of giving him free range was to make him feel more comfortable. If they spent the whole time in this hyper-aware state of watchfulness they were going to keep him on edge. And he was on edge. She could see it in the way he held his shoulders and how his eyes kept scanning the room.

He had finished his first plate already but, unlike Thor who had made two additional trips to the kitchen, he remained where he was. Steve was discussing some informant or another with Natasha (Darcy never really listened to those kinds of conversations) and hadn't finished his own plate yet. Without a word Darcy stood up and reached right across Steve to grab Barnes' empty dish. Everyone froze but Darcy kept right on going. She gave the Soldier a reassuring smile as she dragged the dish away.

"I'll be right back with another helping. I know the Captain can keep pace with the golden god down there, and I expect you to do the same. He's already two up on you, so I better see some hustle." She gave him a wink and sauntered into the kitchen.

When she returned, the conversations had resumed. As she set the heaping plate in front of him, he gave her a grateful smile. That alone was worth the lecture she was sure to receive from Natasha over what she had done.

Returning to her seat, she allowed herself a small triumphant grin. Another interaction and still not dead. She could totally handle the Soldier.

Barnes didn't join them again for dinner until three days later. Steve and Sam were also absent. Though no one said anything about it, Darcy could read between the lines. The Soldier was still having trouble adjusting.

Darcy couldn't help but feel terrible for him. And for Steve. She couldn't fathom the things either one of them had been through but she knew from experience that even small scars could take years to fade. How long would it take for Barnes to overcome the tragedies in his past?

After the first week, the good days began to outweigh the bad. Barnes spent more time exploring the Tower. Darcy never saw him without Steve though. They were like Peter Pan and his wayward shadow. The Captain and the Soldier. Once the image planted itself in her mind she couldn't shake it. On more than one occasion she caught herself sporting a dopey smile as she thought about them.

Three weeks in, Darcy began to run into the two of them everywhere. If she was cooking, inevitably, they were hanging in the kitchen. If she was training with Natasha, they were in the gym. If she was cleaning on the common floor, they were there. If she hadn't been absolutely positive that it was all coincidence, she might have been suspicious.

One day, Steve and Bruce were having their weekly chess match with both Thor and Barnes observing. Darcy was doing her own thing, dancing to her music as she wrote out the grocery list for the next week. Feeding Avenger-sized appetites took planning.

An itch on the back of her neck told her that someone was watching. Glancing up, she found the Soldier's eyes on her. She gave him a smile and pulled out one of her ear buds. "Hey, big guy. You enjoying the match? I'm not really one for chess. I prefer checkers."

Whenever Barnes was around she made sure to make conversation with him as if he was like every other person, because he was. True, he wouldn't answer her questions but he wasn't a dangerous animal. Dangerous, yes. But he wasn't an animal. He was definitely all man.

"I'm not really all that good at it though," she said innocently, as she batted her lashes. "So if you ever want to play you'll have to take it easy on me."

Bruce snorted at that. "If you believe her, its on your own head," he warned.

"He's so silly. I only beat you that _one_ time."

"You crushed me."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress the mischievous smile. "It was a fair game. Its not like I'm a genius scientist or anything." The second line was for Bruce, but she kept her eyes on Barnes. That devilish smirk flashed.

"No, but you definitely have some sort of checkers-related superpower."

She leaned toward Barnes and mock-whispered. "Don't tell him, but irreverence is my superpower."

Everyone laughed at that. Even Barnes gave a soft chuckle. Darcy counted that as another victory in her campaign to befriend him.

Bucky had been in the Tower for over two months. He was surprised to find that he felt comfortable here. Even though most of the Avengers were still watching him like he might turn enemy any minute.

It was because of Steve. When ever Steve was around he felt like he could relax. He could let go and simply be. He didn't have to be cataloging potential allies and threats. He didn't need to be mapping out escape routes. Steve would protect him. The realization had been a strange one.

Before he had always been the protector. Now Steve was his.

Currently the man in question was lounging on the couch sketching. It made Bucky smile to see him at ease. Moving silently, he came up behind Steve. On the page was a rendering of them together. Steve had drawn himself as he had been before the serum. Skinny and sickly, the shield he held far too big for his frame. The pencil version of himself wasn't from those days. He was struck to see himself as he was now, long hair and metal arm and all. The two figures were back to back, fighting some kind of unfinished shadowy enemies. The enemies weren't important. The most important thing in the whole drawing was the clasped hands that were almost obscured by their positioning. The fore front was their weapons, Steve's shield and his arm, and fighting stances. But that tiny detail, hidden in the background, stood out to him far more than anything else.

Was this how Steve saw them?

For some reason this pushed him over the edge. He had been observing for weeks. Trying to determine how Steve felt. Sometimes he was sure that Steve only thought of him as a friend. Other times he saw Steve hesitate as if he was about to say or do something that would change their friendship into something different, but the blonde never did.

With his flesh hand, so as not to cause any harm, he reached down and snatched away the sketchbook. Steve looked up at him a little stunned to be suddenly clutching air. "Buck?"

"On your feet, Rogers," he said in his best Colonel Phillips impersonation, his face serious.

Steve stood slowly from the couch. His eyes were steady on Bucky's but his muscles had tensed slightly. They had been through a few of his flashbacks now, and Steve had no way of knowing that this wasn't another one.

He held up the drawing. "Care to explain this?"

He set the sketchbook carefully on the arm of the couch. He couldn't risk it getting damaged. Steve's eyes glanced at the sketchbook then back. While he searched for his words, Bucky took two steps forward bringing him within reach.

"What exactly are your thoughts on Sergeant Barnes?" The question made Steve's eyes widen. "Nothing to say, Rogers?"

Dropping the act, he grabbed at Steve's too tight shirt, yanking him forward. "That's okay. I've got something to say on the subject." He mashed their lips together. For a moment it was awkward as Steve struggled through his shock. Then Bucky gentled his movements, sliding his tongue against the seam of Steve's lips. With a groan, Steve brought his hands up to tangle in Bucky's long hair. He took over then, angling his head and deepening the kiss. Their tongues explored each other, Bucky nipping at Steve's lip.

There was no way this could be played off as something between friends. Not with the way their bodies pressed together, the desperate way they clutched at each other.

When they finally broke apart they were both breathing hard. Steve searched his face, whatever he found made the blonde smile. "Jerk."

"Punk," Bucky responded with affection.

"Do you want to talk about this now or later?"

Bucky's only answer was that devil's smirk.

Steve knew Bucky could speak. He could also kiss. And boy had that been a surprise.

However, Bucky only seemed to be able to speak under certain situations. Thus far he'd only been able to accomplish the feat with Steve or Sam, though only if Steve stayed in the room.

It pained him to watch Bucky struggle to find his way. But he was making progress. Sometimes the steps were slow and halting but he was always moving forward.

They had agreed to put what was between them on hold until Bucky could clear this hurtle. While Steve agreed with the plan he found it hard to keep his hands to himself. Bucky had been a bit of a bastard to spring their first kiss on him in the way that he had but Steve admitted, to himself at least, that he had been moving at a snail's pace. Now their mutual attraction was out in the open but they weren't doing anything about it. Steve was sure this was meant to be a test of his self-control.

The bright spots in his day came from watching Darcy and Bucky together. She was beautiful and kind. She went out of her way to include Bucky in Tower life. He knew that she was responsible for Bucky's favorite dishes making repeat appearances on the menu. When she was listening to music she would watch Bucky for signs of enjoyment. Over the course of a month she had complied a playlist just for him, which she would switch to whenever he was in the room.

She was amazing.

Perhaps to outsiders, she seemed flippant and unconcerned with others. Truth was she cared about people, about all the people in the Tower. He could see it.

Bucky talked about her all the time. And Steve could see his friend falling under her spell. Steve was already enthralled by her.

It thrilled him a little to know that the two most important people in his life were fitting together so well. It also made his mind wander down paths that would have made his younger self blush and stammer. As it was, he had to take cold showers far more often than warm ones.

Those thoughts had prompted him to take a dive into learning about modern sexual culture. He had mostly tried to avoid the subject up until this point. Part of that was because it did still make him a little uncomfortable how open people were about these things. The other reason was that he had believed his own wants were simple. As it became more and more obvious that his desires were not as straightforward as he'd imagined, he wanted to get an idea of how modern culture stood on these issues.

He was already well aware that the internet could be a scary place. For all the good it had done for the flow of open information, it carried its own unique set of problems. However, he wasn't really sure how to go about finding the answer to his questions any other way. He could ask Sam...probably. But Sam had a habit of digging for motivations under a person's actions. It made him a good counselor but Steve wasn't really looking for therapy session.

He could ask Natasha. However, she treated Darcy like a younger sister, and with all the protectiveness of that implied bond. He didn't really think Natasha would appreciate hearing his impure thoughts about the brunette. He could try to make the questions vague but lets be honest, Natasha was a spy. She would read him like a book.

That left only one other person: Bruce.

Banner had been the first person to recognize his awkward dance around Darcy for what it really was. Perhaps he would be able to help. Steeling himself for the awkwardness that was sure to follow, he pushed open the door to Banner's lab.


	14. Chapter 14

Banner's lab was as impressive as any other in the Tower. The one striking difference was the atmosphere. Tony's floor was rock and roll, loud and brash like his personality. Foster's was more traditional, white counters and walls with a splash of color from Darcy's presence. The lab Tony had created for Banner was a tranquil retreat, meant to soothe. Steve wasn't sure if Tony had designed it himself or had input from another source, but the result was compelling.

There were several water features, accompanied by non-existent wind chimes. The colors were calming blues and purples. In the far back there was some sort of rock and sand garden that Bruce said was great for midday meditation.

Steve appreciated the ambiance of the room usually. Today only made his appreciation greater. He was already uncomfortable enough. Having to have this discussion in a cold clinical setting would only make it worse.

In the time that Steve had resided in the Tower he had gotten to know Bruce better, and the man's alter-ego. During the Chitauri invasion, there had been limited options. Steve had been forced to trust that Bruce could at least direct the Hulk where to spread his destruction. Afterwards, even though Hulk had fought for them, Steve remained uneasy. He had thought Bruce was a good man, but believed the citizens of New York would be in danger from the Hulk every minute. He no longer held that to be true. Bruce had astounding patience and self-control, and if the Hulk ever appeared without Bruce consciously calling him, Steve believed the green beast would continue to assist.

Bruce was glued to a microscope when Steve entered. Though unsure of the specifics of his research, Steve knew that Banner had moved beyond simple gamma radiation and was now delving into genetics. Steve may not have understood everything that Tony and Bruce talked about but he wasn't completely ignorant of how modern science worked. His understanding had progressed a great deal since that first meeting on the Helicarrier.

Steve strode in a few feet, then stood uncomfortably. A minute dragged by and then another.

Bruce sighed from his hunched position. "Come in, Steve," he called softly.

Of course, Rogers heard. He shuffled forward and could feel the heat of embarrassment trying to climb up his neck before he had even broached the subject he'd come to discuss. He had practiced what he was going to say in his head, but now he felt the words catch in his throat.

Another small sigh escaped from Bruce as he straightened. Peering at Steve over his glasses, he studied the captain. Steve could feel the pressure of his brilliant mind like a physical presence. He was reminded of when the serum had first changed his body. The technicians and scientists had observed him like that, like an experiment. At the time, he had been an experiment; a successful one thankfully. Now, however, he was not a lab rat, he was here as a man looking for help from his friend.

When a knowing smile made Banner's lips quirk slightly, Steve wondered if he had figured out the reason for his visit. However, his words gave nothing away. "So are you here about Tony or Clint?"

His brows drew together in confusion but Bruce saw it and continued before he could formulate a response. "So it's not about the new arm or the waffle disaster." Steve had no words. "I know you're not here about trouble with Barnes. Sam would handle that. Which leaves me to draw only one conclusion: you're here about Darcy."

This was why he choose Bruce as his opponent for chess. The man was observant. "Maybe not directly but yes."

Bruce only tilted his head in disbelief but didn't call him on it. He simply waited him out. Steve knew that he could sometimes move slowly when he was unsure of his footing, but Bruce was a man with infinite patience; the good doctor would outlast him, no question.

"I wanted to talk about a topic that I don't believe could be handled by googling." He was up on the modern slang.

There was a noise from Bruce that may have been a cough...or a huff of laughter. Even with his enhanced hearing he couldn't be sure.

"I assume this is something...delicate."

Now the blush started. He could feel it. "Yes."

"Prudent of you not to use a search engine then," Bruce agreed.

The silence that fell between them felt like it was squeezing Steve's throat. Of course, Bruce showed no such discomfort.

"I want to know about modern sex," Steve suddenly blurted.

Bruce blinked slowly. Twice. "Are you afraid we've changed something," he asked. "Because I can assure you, from a scientific stand point, it's the same process as seventy years ago."

Running a hand over his face, Steve tried to regroup. "What I mean, is that I'd like to know about how...about what is acceptable nowadays? I know that there have been great strides forward as far as equality and...and there's much more tolerance for alternative lifestyles..."

"Have you been talking to Natasha," Bruce broke in, taking an aggressive step forward, his fists clenching unconsciously.

"No," Steve replied, his hand held up as if he was swearing an oath. He wasn't sure what had prompted the reaction but he had no desire to push the man.

Bruce relaxed minutely, turning to watch the water flow down the fountain on the wall. "Never mind." He turned back and that knowing smirk returned. "I think I understand. And this isn't directly about Darcy?" Steve swallowed, intending to own up to the truth, but Bruce continued without waiting for an answer. "Where exactly would you like to start?"

The question was not rhetorical, as Bruce tilted his head and waited for a response. "Are there...is there a precedent for relationships with more than two people?"

Surprise had Bruce's mouth falling open. Then laughter spilled out. Again, Steve felt like he was missing something.

"Yes," he finally said, gaining control over his laughter. "There are several kinds of relationships that involve more than two people that have become more main-stream than in your day. I won't say that they are universally accepted. Nor even that they are common, but they do exist." Bruce paused. Amusement still made his face look lighter. "And this isn't directly about Darcy," he asked again.

"It might be," Steve said defensively.

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. "I will be happy to help walk you through whatever other questions you have, but I think you might want to talk to Darcy about this. She's a true modern woman; it might be that she has more experience with these things than you'd think."

The thought caused heat to rise...and it wasn't going to Steve's cheeks. Talking to Darcy about this , before he knew what he was getting into, was probably not a good idea.

An hour later, Steve exited Bruce's lab wishing he could drink enough to tone down the images in head. Since alcohol was not going to be his answer, he thought a nice long run would be a good way to clear his mind. When he pushed open the gym doors, he confronted another example of why he needed a whiskey.

Darcy was on one of the mats...on all fours...her ass pointed towards him.

Steve didn't swear but it was a close thing. He would have turned and walked right back out, but his presence had been noticed.

"Hello, Rogers," Natasha said. Steve peeled his eyes away from Darcy and met the steady gaze of the former assassin. She was standing to the side, arms folded over her chest. The small grin she wore said she knew what was on his mind.

Hearing his name, Darcy looked for him over her shoulder. "Steve! Hey, I had a question for you...but now I can't remember what it is." Her lips pouted as she switched her gaze to Natasha. "See you've scrambled my brains, woman."

Natasha only smiled wider. "Keep doing your stretches," Natasha instructed the young woman. "I have to discuss something with Rogers."

Grumbling about "stupid super spies", Darcy did as told.

Suddenly the gym was the last place Steve wanted to be in the world.

"Shall we," Natasha asked motioning to the hall.

Steve preceded her out. When he turned back, she was already moving. Her hand slapped a small disk onto his chest. Oh shit. As she raised her other hand, Steve could see that her hand was on the trigger of her favorite weapon.

Her smile now was vicious. The one she wore when her enemies were caught but didn't even know it. "Unless you want a major shock, you're going to answer my question." Steve gave a nod. 'What exactly were you discussing with Bruce?"

"I-uh. That is...he was telling me about modern culture."

"Threesomes play a big role in that," she questioned.

"You heard."

"I heard," she agreed.

"It wasn't what you think."

Her face told him how much she believed that statement. "Bruce is allowed to do whatever he wants, Rogers. I thought you of all people would approve of him exercising his freedom."

"Okay, it _really_ wasn't what you think it was. I wasn't there about Bruce."

Natasha's hand lowered slightly. "You weren't there about Bruce?"

"No, I was...it was for me."

It took a moment for the revelation to work itself into her brain. Then she laughed. Big full bellied laughter. "Well, Rogers. You've always been full of surprises. Wasn't expecting this one though." Snatching back the disk that had been on his chest, she headed back into the gym.

That had been...unexpected.

Natasha's head popped back out from the doorway. "If you're planning on using your new...education with Darcy, I have to warn you: She bites."

With that she disappeared from sight again.

Steve rolled his shoulders back, trying to find his balance. The baser parts of him wanted to drag Darcy out of the gym and back up to his apartment where he could see if Natasha's warning proved true. The rest of him wanted her as fiercely but had a bit more decorum. He still wasn't sure how Darcy would react to all this so he restrained himself.

Only one thing was certain, he needed a drink. Spinning on his heel, he went to find Tony. If the man was such a genius, he could prove it by making something that would get Steve Rogers drunk.

Over time Darcy began to forget about Natasha's warning. Well not forget it exactly... It just wasn't the first thing on her mind when she looked at Barnes. He was like a lost dog: jumpy, scared, but unable to ask for help. He might growl or bark, but he never hurt her or anyone else when he could do so easily. And he was always disproportionately pleased with the little things she tried to do to make him feel at home.

Barnes had been in the Tower for a few months, and though he never spoke to her, they had found their own way of communicating. It was hard to tell Barnes' feelings on anything more complex than meals and music and movies (yeah movie night totally continued), but Steve helped mediate in those instances when a simple nod or shake of his head won't suffice. The Soldier at least talked to the Captain. (Which was totally cute in its own heartbreaking way.)

She knew Sam was working with Barnes. Whenever she caught him by himself she would ask about Barnes' progress. Sam kept her updated without breaching any confidences. He was the one to inform her about Barnes not liking to be touched, so even though her fingers sometimes itched to do so, she kept her hands off. Even so, she didn't keep her distance. She would walk right into his personal space without fear.

"Just keep on being yourself, good-lookin'," Sam told her one day. "Everyone else treats him like the Winter Soldier. They have to. He is still a risk. But you - you're a normal girl." He given her a wink then. "Well mostly." She'd rolled her eyes, but let him continue. "The important thing is that you treat him like a regular man, even though you know his history. I think that's helped him tremendously."

Overall the 'Befriend the Soldier and don't get killed in the process' campaign was going well. (She really needed to come up with a better name.) She took it day by day and found that it wasn't hard at all.

What was turning out to be hard were her interactions with Steve. Ever since that first dinner with Barnes, Steve had been touching her. Like really _touching_ her. She kept trying to convince herself they were all friendly, casual touches, and maybe they were. But sometimes he lingered just a second too long, or he'd stare at her lips like he wanted to taste them. It was driving her up a wall. Her libido had always been pretty high functioning. And who hadn't fantasized about Captain America? But this was ridiculous. She was even dreaming about the super soldier twins and she hadn't had wet dreams since high school. Not since she had found that exploring in real-life was way more fun (and satisfying) than fantasizing.

Problem was he was being a perfect gentleman. So Darcy wasn't sure if this was all part of 1940's chivalry or what. Barnes didn't touch her, but he wasn't exactly into physical contact with anyone. And Darcy didn't have anyone else to compare Steve's behavior to. Barnes did do all the other gentlemanly things. He'd hold doors, like Steve did. He'd carry things for her, same as Steve. He even helped with dinner prep (the man could wield a knife in a scary-as-fuck-but-also-exteremely-arousing way that told Darcy things about herself she hadn't known before).

Then Steve asked her out.

"Wait - what?" She'd had her headphones in (a rare thing these days) but had seen Steve approaching. She had been able to hear the rumble of his voice, but the only words she'd been able to make out were 'take you out'. Ripping off her headphones, she posed her question.

Steve gave her an amused smile. "I was saying that I could really use a break out of the Tower that didn't involve Avengers business. I was hoping I could take you out with me."

"Um...what did you have in mind," she asked, trying to decide if this was like a date-date or a hang-with-my-friend kind of offer.

"Just a stroll. There's also this little coffee shop Pepper mentioned that does gourmet coffee I thought we could stop by."

Darcy perked up at the word coffee. She hadn't decided what category his offer fell into yet, but she could chance it for gourmet coffee.

They walked leisurely through the park. He remained close but didn't even take her hand.

When they finished he helped her onto the back of his bike and took her to the promised cafe. It was as good as she imagined.

As they sat at a table outside, he reached across the table and took her hand. Now that was not a "friend" thing to do. His thumb rubbed across the back of her hand, mesmerizing her.

"I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for Bucky. We both really appreciate it."

"Its nothing Steve."

"It is," he tells her earnestly, his hand tightening on hers for a moment. "Bucky has always been my best fella."

Well that was a strange way of putting it.

Darcy believed that she had a pretty good radar for a person's sexuality. And Steve had always struck her as straighter than an arrow. But ever since Barnes had made his appearance, she was beginning to get hints that the Captain's orientation was not as simple as she had thought. Maybe the Captain and the Soldier had been a little more than bunk buddies back in the service. There was no judgment in the thought. She was all for love in whatever form it took. It was simply surprising.

The way he rubbed her hand was also a bit of a mixed message. Was he flirting with her? It seemed unlikely if he was into Barnes. She may not have been sure about his orientation but she was sure that Rogers was a one partner man. He was too traditional for anything else.

The stab of disappointment didn't show on her face as he continued. To be loved by Steve Rogers would be exciting and overwhelming and wonderful. To have that earnest all-American attention focused on her would be a miracle that she was sure she didn't deserve. If he was interested in Barnes, it made the Soldier one lucky guy.

"Still with me?"

Startled, Darcy jumped. "Oh yes. I'm sorry. Coffee kinda put me in a daze." Steve smiled at her affectionately. Don't look at me like that if you don't mean it, she thought. "I was floating on clouds of foam over a cappuccino sea," she declared with a sigh designed to make him laugh. It succeeded.

"If you're back from nirvana, we can head back to the Tower."

"Ooo! Big word, Rogers. I'm proud of you."

That only made him chuckle again as he stood and held out his hand to help her up. The picture he made grinning down at her, hand outstretched in invitation, was so tempting. If only it was for her in the way she wanted.

She was quiet on the ride back, and it was easy to claim work and slip away when they returned home.

Instead of heading to the labs, she hurried back to her own rooms. No one needed to see her in this melancholy mood.

Later that night after dinner, which had been a small affair, Darcy crashed on her couch. The television played some mindless reality program, but she wasn't paying attention to it. Her eyes were focused on the ceiling, her mind floating in a thoughtless state. She was trying to will away the desire she had for more. She shouldn't want more. She should be happy with what she was given. Wasn't that what her aunt always said. Aunt Rhonda had reminded her constantly that she was greedy and spoiled. (A fact that she had overlooked in her own spawn.)

Suddenly a blunted projectile bounced off her temple.

"Barton!"

He chuckled as he swung down from where he had been hiding in one of her cabinets. The sneaky bastard must have emptied it out earlier in the day so he could fit.

"You looked like you were having some pretty depressing thoughts there, kid. Was just trying to hit the reset button for you."

"Ha ha. You're a riot."

"I know," he informed her with a shit-eating grin. He strode over and threw himself over the back of the couch to land beside her. "So...wanna talk about it?"

"No," she said grumpily, crossing her arms.

"That's okay. I don't want to talk either." He proceeded to snatch the remote from her lap and flip over to a sporting event she had no interest in.

Two minutes later, when she getting ready to make a try for grabbing it back, Natasha strode in. Followed by Bruce. The hell?

Barton shot her that grin again. "I think they might want to talk."

"Did you send up a bat signal or something?"

Pulling the phone from his pocket, he danced it in front of her face. "Its called texting, Lewis."

"Which you can do without looking," she asked with disbelief.

"He can," Bruce attested. Darcy's eyes snapped to the scientist. Since when did Bruce know Clint's texting abilities?

"Okay,"she said drawing out the word so it became its own question.

Natasha gave Clint some silent signal in that freaky telepathic way they had. The archer jumped up and gave Darcy a mocking two fingered salute. "Later, kid." With that he strode out, pausing only to give Bruce a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Bruce took the recliner that Thor had furnished, (He had claimed that her slowly sinking couch was not acceptable seating) while Natasha took the place Barton had vacated. Both of them looked at her expectantly.

"Seriously you guys are freaking me out," she said.

They both smirked. Simultaneously.

"That's not helping," Darcy pointed out. "Did Barton put you up to this?"

Bruce chuckled. "No. All he did was let us know you were seemed down."

"He called _both_ of you?"

"He contacted Natasha," Bruce supplied. "I happened to be there and offered assistance."

Darcy was smart enough not to touch that one. She had known Tasha for awhile now and she still wasn't certain if the spy was sleeping with Barton. No way was she delving into the murky waters of why Natasha and Bruce were hanging out together at 9 o'clock at night on a Tuesday.

"Did Rogers say something to upset you?" This was from Natasha and her look promised retribution on the super soldier if Darcy said yes.

"No."

"Barnes?"

"No! Oh my god, Tasha," she said throwing her hands up. "They are both being perfect gentlemen. I'm just in a mood. No one would have even known if Barton didn't feel the need to perch in my cupboard like some demented bird." She crossed her arms and glared slightly at the door he had retreated through.

"You can talk to us, Darcy," Bruce said.

"I know," she grumbled, trying not to snap.

"Do you really know," he asked. "I've known you over a year now and I bet you could name my first pet, the high school I attended, and my mother's name." Darcy couldn't deny it so she remained silent. "Yet you rarely let us see anything beneath the surface."

The announcer on the television exclaimed about a fantastic play, while Darcy struggled to keep herself composed.

"Do we really need to do this," she questioned then, with a hint of anger in her tone. "Its not like you don't know me. I'm just me. Knowing that my parents abandoned me with my aunt to go get high and got themselves killed, doesn't change who I am. Would it help somehow to know that I spent seven years being told what an evil sinful child I was? Or that eventually Aunt Rhonda abandoned me too, leaving me with her boyfriend." The words were angry and tight. Burning in her eyes and throat warned that her flippant mask was falling. "Does it help to know that the closest thing I ever had to a father left me too, even if he didn't do it intentionally?" Tears welled up and spilled over. They felt like ice falling down her flaming cheeks. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Darcy Lewis' pathetic story." A sob escaped. "Fuck." She pushed to her feet, intending to hide in the bathroom until they left.

She didn't even get to take one step before Natasha had her arms around the shaking younger woman.

"Its all right, sestrenka," she soothed. "We're sorry. We didn't mean to push you."

Darcy sucked in a breath and tried to calm her tears. "Its okay," she finally said, her words muffled into Natasha's shoulder.

"Its really not," Bruce commented. "But we are sorry. I promise I won't pry anymore."

"Can we make it up to you," Natasha asked.

Taking a few more shaky breaths, Darcy found her calm. "Yeah," she said with a low-wattage smile. "You can take me dancing."

Bruce smiled and nodded. Natasha gave a soft laugh then pulled back from the hug. "You name the time and place."

"Right now," Darcy replied. "Downstairs. Twenty minutes. And you both better be dressed up," she warned pointing a finger at Bruce. Though he had agreed, he looked a little unsure. "No backing out, Banner."

As they moved for the door, Darcy headed for the bathroom. It was time to do a major repair job on her face. She definitely did not cry prettily.

"Wait," Darcy called, turning back. They paused, Bruce's hand on the doorknob. "Barton can come too," she conceded.

Natasha smirked. "I'm not sure that is the best idea after what happened last time when you bit-"

"Zip it," Darcy interrupted. "Not another word Romanov."

Bruce watched the interaction with amusement. "Anything I should know," he asked.

"No," Darcy said firmly. "And anything she tells you is a lie."

Natasha laughed and motioned for him to open the door. "Come on, Banner. Tonight's going to be fun."

Since their first stroll through Central Park, Steve had taken Darcy on six more "outings". Not that she was counting.

Sometimes they were sweet innocent things like roller skating, which she hadn't done since middle-school. Other times they edged into romantic like when he packed a picnic and drove her outside the city to a secluded park. She was spending a lot of time with him. Not even including all the time she hung out with both Barnes and Rogers.

She could say with certainty now that both men were, at the very least, her friends. There was no mistaking the camaraderie they shared. She could exchange easy touches with Steve as well as ones that heated her blood. With Barnes there may have been no contact, but those soulful eyes could really wind her gears. But the messages were still muddled. Did they both want her? Or was this slowly building fire all one-sided obsession on her part?

She had no answers and her questions were ones that she didn't feel comfortable asking. True, they would never laugh or demean her, but old habits died hard. She couldn't expose herself in such a way. Instead of pushing forward with her usual shameless style, she desperately hung onto the status quo. Things were good and she was happy, if a little sexually frustrated. She wasn't about to screw with the balance and peace she had found in here.

It was a boring Wednesday morning when Steve sauntered into Jane's lab with two steaming coffees and his sketchbook tucked under his arm.

"Happy Hump Day," he declared, setting one of the coffee cups in front of her.

"I can't believe that just came out of your mouth," Darcy said in greeting.

He gave her that cute little smirk, and took a seat on the chair beside her. "What part is so surprising? The fact that I know about hump day? Or that I would use it in a sentence?"

"More the latter than the former," she replied reaching for the drink he'd brought her.

Steve set his sketchbook on the table and flipped to a blank page. Darcy watch in fascinated as those wide hands drew dainty lines. Sipping her coffee, she soaked in the sight of him. Before Barnes joined the Tower, Darcy had been debating mentioning the art museum to Steve. Seeing him bring to life a scene on the page made up her mind.

"So what are your plans for this weekend," she asked with a nonchalance she wasn't feeling.

Not even bothering to lift his head, he shrugged one shoulder. "Not much as far as I know. Bucky won't be cleared to leave yet which means we'll be prowling around the Tower somewhere."

"Oh."

Now Steve looked up. "Was there a reason you're asking?"

Not the time to hedge, Lewis, she warned herself. "Actually yes. Have you been to the any of the museums in the city?"

His smile said he could see where this was heading. "No, I haven't had the chance."

"Well, would you be interested in going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art? I hear its pretty good."

"That sounds swell," he said with enthusiasm.

"See that right there," she said, pointing at him accusingly. "That's why its hard to believe the word 'hump' coming from your mouth."

Steve only laughed in response and went back to his drawing.

Darcy lifted her coffee to her lips and smiled behind it. If anyone ever asked she would deny the happy thumping of her heart that accompanied that smile.

The following weekend they toured the Metropolitan. Well Steve toured, Darcy was dragged from one exhibit to another by the exuberant six year old trapped in Captain America's body. It was fun though. He was excited about everything. Even the pieces he hated couldn't wipe the smile from his face. He made a full circuit of the museum and then went back to re-visit his favorites, before Darcy claimed fatigue.

She had been trying to hold out, but they had been there for hours and her feet were definitely complaining.

He kept apologizing as she found a bench to park herself. "Relax," she said. "I just don't have your stamina, big guy. I'll wait here until you're done."

He looked torn and it was adorable. "You sure this is all right?"

"Steve, go. I can entertain myself quite well."

"Okay. But call me if you want to go."

"I will," she assured as she pulled her phone from her purse. "Now go. I'm about to be embraced by the arms of social media."

She heard him chuckle as he scurried away.

When finally came back, another hour later, he looked sheepish. He opened his mouth, no doubt intending to apologize but Darcy held up a hand to stop him. "If the next words out of your mouth include sorry I will confiscate all your Mars bars."

Throwing a hand to his heart, he attempted to look stricken. Darcy only rolled her eyes and got to her feet.

They walked out together and retrieved the car Tony had offered up for any of the Avengers to use anytime. As they made their way back to the Tower, Steve was quiet but still smiling. It had been a good day.

Too bad he's only using you to take a break from Bucky, her inner critic taunted. She pushed the thought away and tried to focus on the moment. When that didn't work, she tried to convince herself that it didn't matter either way. It was better to be friends with Steve and Bucky than to encroach on whatever was budding between them.

Usually she and Steve parted ways in the elevator. Today, Steve followed her when her stop came. "Umm...did you forget something," Darcy asked when she noticed he was still trailing behind her.

"No I remembered," he replied with a sly smile.

They were at her door now. "Did you want to come in for a coffee," she asked, unsure why he continued to linger.

"No." He reached for her hand. She thought maybe he was going to give her a handshake, or maybe even a courtly kiss to the back of her hand. Instead he pulled her forward. She was helpless against him. Not because he was physically stronger, but because her traitorous body wanted to be closer to his heat. They were flush against each other now. She could feel her heart pounding and she wondered if he could feel it too the way his fingers wrapped around her wrist.

As he lowered his head, she felt hypnotized. She couldn't look away from his focused gaze. His other arm slide around behind her and pressed her closer. Then his lips met hers. It was a chaste and gentle kiss. But there was no doubt in her mind who controlled it.

Christ-on-a-cracker. It was good. Shivers went through her body as he pulled away.

"Thank you," he said, that same strange smile lighting his face.

As he walked away, Darcy struggled to open the door to her apartment. Once inside she pressed her back to the door and slid to the floor.

"Jarvis," she called.

"How may I be of assistance, Darcy?"

"Could you call Jane and Natasha for me? Tell them its girl's night and they better bring booze." She let out a shaky breath. "Lots of booze."


	15. Chapter 15

Natasha arrived at Darcy's door with Maria Hill in tow.

Jane had already been there for half an hour. She had come bearing margarita ingredients and a blender. The whirring of the blender drown out the first half of Darcy's attempted greeting. That was fine, she simply yelled it again. "Hello! Come in! Jane makes the best margaritas!" The blender cut out. "This is our second batch!"

Maria was smirking, the closest thing to a smile Darcy had ever seen from the former Deputy Director. Natasha raised a brow. "We can see that," she said as she motioned to the empty glasses.

Jane snickered as she refilled them. Darcy grabbed at hers with greedy hands.

Before she could lift it to her lips, Natasha snatched the beverage without spilling a drop. "Hey," she protested. "That's mine. Get your own."

"I will but I think you need to slow down."

"No," Darcy said slowly as if trying to explain a difficult concept to a child. "I need to drink that. I can still feel all my limbs."

Natasha looked to Jane. "How many has she had?"

The scientist was on her way to tipsy as well but she had spent a long summer in Mexico which had trained her to hold her tequila. "Well, a batch is six and I've had three, so two."

"Might want to check your math there Dr. Foster," Maria suggested.

"I gave her a significantly smaller glass. I make them strong and didn't want her too smashed. So volume-wise she had two and I had four, but glasses-wise she had two and I had three."

Maria blinked, then glanced to Natasha who was keeping Darcy from her drink with one hand. "I think I've been in the private sector too long, I was actually able to follow that logic."

Jane's explanation finally sank in for Darcy. She stopped reaching for her glass and turned to Jane with an outraged expression. "You, bitch! You were holding out on me."

The older woman was unaffected by the comment. She shrugged and sipped at her own glass. "You called code red. I am only trying to make sure you stay lucid enough to explain why."

Maria took a seat at one of the high-back wooden chairs that Pepper had provided, along with a small country style dining table, when she had seen lack of furniture in Darcy's apartment. "Code red?"

"Girl's night," Jane explained as she took her own seat. "Its reserved for break-ups, life-altering occurrences, alien invasions, arrival of gods, etc. The last one was when SHIELD fell and Captain America was missing in action for a while." She nodded in Darcy's direction. "Someone was a bit shaken up."

"Everyone was shaken up," Darcy defended. "Biggest black-suited organization in the world goes down to Nazi-age enemies, I had every right to be shaken."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Pretty sure you weren't worried about world security. You were much more worried about a certain super-soldier."

"Did Rogers do something," Natasha asked, connecting the dots.

"Maybe," Darcy hedged. "But maybe I don't want to talk about it without a sufficient amount of alcohol."

Natasha finally handed Darcy back her drink, and motioned the younger girl to take a seat. Darcy sulked for a moment, but eventually moved to sit. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, Darcy."

"Tunes, if you please." Immediately music filled the air. "Thank you, my non-corporeal buddy."

There was silence between the women for a few minutes. Darcy slurped down her margarita, while Natasha poured a glass for herself and Maria. "Is Pepper going to be joining us," Natasha asked as she set the drinks on the table, but remained standing. The two red heads had bonded over their mutual frustration with Tony's antics. The CEO had even joined Darcy and Natasha during their workouts when she was in town.

"No, she's in Beijing, or Barcelona, or Bucharest. Something with a b," Darcy supplied.

"Berlin." That was from Maria. She would know being the head of Stark Industries security.

Another companionably silence fell as they all finished their drinks. Natasha was still standing, pacing slightly. As she finished off the margarita, she returned to the kitchenette and procured four shot glasses. She set them on the table with purpose. "So lets get you to the sufficient amount of alcohol," she told Darcy. Pulling a large bottle of vodka from somewhere she popped the cap and began to pour.

"I don't even want to know where you had that," Darcy said, looking over Natasha's tight clothing perplexed.

"I'm not even sure that followed the laws of physics," Jane added.

Natasha laughed and lifted one of the shots. The others did the same. "To girl's night."

"To girl's night," the others echoed and threw back the fiery liquid.

It only took another hour for Darcy to hit her sufficient alcohol level. They had migrated to the more comfortable seating and were all in various states of relaxation. Darcy had pulled Jane into learning the moves to the latest poplar line dance, though both were moving with less than perfect co-ordination. Maria and Natasha were offering commentary from the couch. The song ended and switched to a slower beat. The female singer crooned about missing the one she never had. Inhibitions lowered, Darcy felt the words like a punch to the gut.

Ever the observant one, Natasha saw the moment her mood changed. "What is it, sestrenka?"

"Men are complicated," Darcy announced as if she had reached some grand revelation.

The older women looked at each other and began to laugh.

"What? They are," Darcy said.

"They really aren't," Natasha countered.

"They are," Darcy said petulantly, practically stomping her foot. "They look at you and touch you and make you laugh and do sweet things. But they're probably gay. Then they_ kiss_ you." She said the last as if it was a most heinous act.

The three woman were momentarily speechless.

"Woah. Back up. Who are we talking about," Jane asked, taking a seat in the recliner.

Maria sat forward on the couch very interested now. "Yes, please enlighten us."

Blunt as ever, Natasha cleared things up. "Did Rogers kiss you?"

"Yes," Darcy exclaimed, though she didn't sound all that happy about it.

"Let me get this straight," Jane said. "Steve Rogers, all-American man, kissed you. And you're upset about this because you think he might be gay."

"Yes," Darcy repeated.

Jane and Maria began to laugh. Already loose from the quantity of alcohol in their systems they couldn't seem to stop once they started.

Natasha did not seem to find Darcy's suspicion as improbable as the others. "Even if he is gay, what makes you think he isn't interested in you?"

Darcy gave the question due consideration. "Well...he's never said anything."

Maria had recovered her composure. "He kissed you. I'd say that's a pretty clear indication of interest."

The young woman waved that logic off. "No. It was like a thank you type thing. Like all that other 40's gentlemanliness. That's a word, right? I'm pretty sure that's a word."

"I can guarantee you that Captain Rogers has not kissed more than five people in his entire life and that includes his mother," Maria offered.

"Yeah, he really doesn't seem the type to be locking lips just as a thank you," Jane commented.

Darcy huffed and stalked over to the table to grab her shot glass. "This is girl's night. You all are supposed to be commiserating with me and helping me drink myself stupid."

"You don't need to drink yourself there," Jane teased, rolling her eyes, but she dutifully rose and retrieved her own shot glass.

Natasha poured them all another round, and the conversation took off in another direction.

Three rounds later, Darcy was having a hard time making her eyes focus. She was pretty sure her legs were numb, but she wasn't going to test it by standing up. She was perfectly content to stay seated at her little table and watch Maria and Jane argue animatedly about something or other.

"Darcy," Natasha said softly putting a hand on her shoulder. She crouched beside the younger woman, practically holding her up when she began to fall forward when she turned to look. "I really hope you remember what I'm about to say to you. I will not interfere in your love life. It's yours and you should follow what feels right for you no matter what anyone says. But you need to stop being oblivious. You keep thinking that you aren't worth the effort, so you don't see what's right in front of you." She sighed and shook her head slightly. "Bruce is so much better at this. What I'm trying to say is that you need to pay a little more attention to what Steve _and_ Bucky are saying to you, because they are communicating, sestrenka. You're just not listening."

Darcy opened her mouth to reply but her tongue felt heavy as did her eyelids.

In the morning, Darcy woke with the light from her window blinding her. She attempted to roll over and bury her face in her pillow, however, the movement made her head pound and her stomach protest. Oh dear god, what have I done, she thought.

"Jarvis," she called.

"Yes, Darcy," he replied, at a muted volume. Of course, an AI used to dealing with Stark would know how to handle a hangover.

"Any chance you could turn off the sun?"

Immediately the room began to darken, Darcy opened her eyes to see that he had somehow tinted the window. "As I am unable to turn off the sun, would this suffice," he asked.

"Oh yes. Thank you."

After making it to the bathroom and surveying the damage in the mirror, Darcy swore she was never drinking again. (Of course that was a big fat lie.) Most of the night before was a blur. She did remember trying to teach Jane to dance. She also recalled trying to convince everyone that Steve was gay. Real classy, Lewis, she chastised herself. Outing a guy you admire.

Thor also may have made an appearance at some point to cart Jane home. Darcy had this vague recollection of the blonde-haired god's gentle laughter. There was also this odd fragment about Natasha, something about not listening. Darcy shrugged it off. It was hardly the first time Darcy had gotten herself in trouble by not listening. If it really was all that important, she was sure the ex-Russian would remind her.

For now, she would try to ease her hangover the best she could, clean up from last night's festivities, and then do her best to pretend that Steve Roger's had never kissed her.

Bucky had been listening to the doctors and talking with Sam for almost six months now. Finally they had agreed that he no longer needed constant supervision. The chaperone was gone. When they gave him the news he had spent four hours alone in Stark's massive media room only to find himself missing the constant presence of the Avengers.

He had not been cleared, however, to leave the Tower. While part of him resented that, the larger part understood. They were thinking of his sanity and the public's safety. Two very important things according to Steve.

There were two big reasons his continued confinement didn't bother him. One slept beside him each night. The other was walking into the common room with what looked to be a modified sniper rifle.

Darcy's eyes quickly scanned the room, passing over Jane and Thor who were cuddled together and sharing a book between them. When they landed on him, in the corner he had positioned himself in, her whole face brightened. Damn, she was beautiful. Beautiful but a little crazy. He was concerned with the way she held the weapon. He hoped it wasn't loaded as she showed disregard for the danger.

"Barnes," she called moving toward him. "I've come to enlist you."

His brows rose at that. She understood it was a question. She always seemed to understand him.

"I need reinforcements. Barton has years of practice behind him and I've got nada. So I need a little backup and I thought who better than the best of the Howling Commandos! And, no, Steve is not the best. Not for this. He used to talk about you all the time before you showed up and one of the things he mentioned was that you are the elite when it comes to firepower," she said hoisting the weapon up.

He shot forward and grabbed the barrel to keep it pointed away from both of them. His stern look had her grimacing and putting up her free hand. "Sorry! Sorry. Can we rewind a minute? This is not a real gun. This is a paint-ball gun. Harmless, messy fun that may sting a bit but will not cause injury."

Slowly he released the muzzle.

"Really should have started with that," she said more in chastisement to herself than for his benefit. "But, honestly, Barnes, did you think they would let _me_ have a real gun?"

He shook his head at her antics. He knew that there wasn't any logic to the way she treated him. He was a monster masquerading as a man, but this innocent soul cared for him. He knew he didn't deserve it but he was grateful just the same. Darcy was sunshine in his life, the same as Steve. He was confident that the three of them fit together. He saw no insurmountable obstacles with the situation as Steve did. Hydra had snatched too many years from him for him to waste time. If he wanted something he went for it. No holds barred. Those two were what he wanted.

Steve was dragging his feet with this whole affair. The two of them had talked it through before Steve had ever asked Darcy out. Since Bucky couldn't leave the Tower yet, and in the beginning was still delegated a chaperone, he had agreed that Steve should take point on this mission of feeling out Darcy's position. During every date, Bucky had distracted himself while waiting for Steve to come back and give him all the details. It was an odd position to be in. He felt part anxious parent, part encouraging best friend, and part jealous lover.

While Steve had never been sure-footed with dating in general, he was finding his way. Bucky only wished he would do it a bit quicker. After the museum when the two had shared their first kiss, Bucky thought they had finally turned a corner. There was no way to mistake the intention in that. However, the next day Darcy acted as if nothing had changed. Of course, that only made Bucky question Steves's technique. "Obviously you didn't do it right, punk," Bucky told him. Steve rolled his eyes and denied that, which only prompted Bucky to goad him into practicing. Later, while Steve slept, Bucky had Jarvis pull up the video to make sure he didn't need to coach the blonde on the difference between handling a woman and a man. The video convinced him the Captain had things well in hand.

That had been nearly a week ago and still Darcy pretended the incident had never happened at all.

"So?" Darcy was looking at him expectantly. When he continued to stare blankly, she pouted her bottom lip. "Please. Help me and I will make those oatmeal cookies you like," she bargained.

He shook his head again, but before she could get the wrong idea he took the gun from her grip. He was happy to do anything that would make her happy; she didn't need to bargain with him.

She did a little dance of excitement. "Barton is going down."

While she outlined her multi-phase plan (and she had taken the time to name each phase), he could only smile. He wished that he could take Darcy away from prying eyes as Steve could. He could slip away if he wanted. He was far better than they gave him credit for, but to do that would compromise the trust he had built. He would play by the rules. For now. Much more of this miscommunication between the two people he cared for and he would have to make his own moves.


	16. Chapter 16

The more Darcy talked about her 'fabulous multi-phase plan to deliver vengeance upon Barton', the more Bucky was impressed. She had thought of every detail she could imagine. For a civilian, whose limited tactical knowledge came from bad action films, it was good. Of course, he could improve on it. Steve would be better, but he was no slouch.

She'd stalled in the middle of her explanation when he'd pulled his tablet from his back pocket. It was on the small side for a tablet more like a large phone.

"Whatcha got there," she asked, leaning over, that musky scent she wore enveloping him. From anyone else the proximity would put him on edge. With her, it incited a whole different reaction. He wanted to reach out, to push those stray hairs behind her ear. He wanted to see if her skin felt as soft as it looked. He wanted to see if she tasted sweet, to dip his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat and other secret places.

He brought his attention back to her question with difficulty.

Gripping the tablet in his metal hand, which Tony had upgraded as promised, he pulled the stylus with his right and began to pull up the schematics for the common room.

"Did Stark give you a hand-held Jarvis," she exclaimed as she read the captioning at the bottom of the screen.

"It is a prototype to assist those with disabilities," Jarvis provided from above. "Sir has simply linked my programming to the device to allow Sergeant Barnes to communicate with me."

There was a choked off noise from Darcy's direction. It might have been one of those sappy cooing noises that women made when they found something especially adorable like babies or puppies. He eyed her suspiciously. She only offered that quirky smile. When he continued to stare her down, she shrugged. "Tin Man has a heart. It just tickles me pink when he shows it."

He huffed a laugh at that. She was always candid with him.

Directing her back to the schematic, he began to mark up her plan as it stood. It revolved around leading Barton to believe he had won. He agreed with that main strategy, but the details could use a little boost. He began moving his little diagram around, watching her face to see if she was following. At first she frowned in concentration, those lush lips pouting slightly. As she grasped what he was attempting to explain, her face morphed into that breath-taking smile that always had heat rushing through him. He wanted to see her smile like that while laid out on the bed he and Steve shared, her hair a dark halo around her.

"You're brilliant," she said as she inched closer to his side to get a better look at the tablet.

He ached for her to touch him, but he knew it was a bad idea. Verbal communication may not have been the only thing holding him back from some semblance of normalcy. He still had trouble with people touching him. Even Steve. At night, when they slept, he always had to make sure that he was far enough away from the other man that if he woke unexpectedly in the night he wouldn't think an accidental touch was an enemy. Steve was always, always vigilant about making sure possible triggers were kept to minimum. Thus, they had fallen into a routine of Steve asking before he touched Bucky.

But having Darcy touch him should be fine as she was a civilian, he tried convincing himself. His training as the Asset would not react for a civilian. Another voice warned that it was too dangerous and that he shouldn't take the risk without someone there to control him if it went badly. The voice sounded a lot like Steve. He had to agree though. If he accidentally hurt her because he was too impatient, it would crush him.

"Do you think we can do this today," she asked eagerly, her eyes sparkling with delight.

When he nodded she gave a whoop of joy that drew Thor and Jane's attention.

"What are you doing," Jane asked with a long suffering sigh.

Darcy winked at him before turning to Jane. "You know, it sounds like you think I'm up to no good."

"I know you are," Jane replied with an eye roll.

"Thor," Darcy called. "Tell her how awesome I am and not to doubt me. I'm your lightning sister, aren't I? How much more awesome can I be?"

Thor gave a deep chuckle and tightened the arm he had around Jane. "It is true, my dear one. As Darcy is my lightning sister she has acquired a certain amount of awesome." Darcy gave a little fist pump. "But I would agree that she appears to have mischievous plans."

Darcy gave the Asgardian an overly shocked expression. "Harsh. Way to rain on my parade, thunderhead."

The couple went back to reading their book and Bucky stood, indicating they could get started.

Two hours later, Darcy ran into the common room clutching her squirt gun. Barton's voice could be heard coming down the hall she had come from. "Nice try, kid, but you are going to have to do better than that."

Bucky smiled from his hiding place. The archer had no idea what was about to hit him. Darcy had lead him through three other obvious "traps" which he evaded and then put her acting skills to use. He had followed her actions on his tablet, thanks to Jarvis, as she pretended to be out of options. She ran to avoid Barton's own projectiles: arrows tipped with small bladders of water that would explode on impact. Tony had assisted in the construction of these. Supposedly to be used in the course of their more serious duties, though Bucky believed Tony had wanted in on the pranks.

As the blonde came into the room, Bucky lined up his shot. He waited as Darcy drew the man further into the room.

"Now Clint," she cajoled. "It would be a waste of your amazing skills to hit a girl like this. I mean, there's no challenge. And I know you love a challenge."

Barton smirked. "You can plead your case all you want, kid. But flattery will get you nowhere."

The man took one more step forward and Bucky let loose with a hail of pink paint. The first impact had the archer's instincts reacting as he loosed his own weapon in Bucky's general direction. However, when Bucky's own expert shot rendered the arrow useless, Barton didn't bother to go for more.

Front now coated with a layer of pink, Barton stood open mouthed.

Laughing hysterically, Darcy had hardly been able to wheeze out a taunting remark to the stunned archer. "You're half way to being the pink power ranger. Turn around so we can do the other side."

"Yeah, real funny, Lewis," he said as he looked himself over. "Just remember that you started this when I bring in my own backup." He turned away, heading back to his own floor for a much needed shower and change of clothes

Bucky couldn't help one last parting shot, hitting the archer square on his ass. Barton jumped and whirled back around, raising a fist. "Don't think you're getting off without retribution, Barnes. You're on my list."

Darcy was supporting herself on the back of one of the chairs, tears leaking from her eyes she was laughing so hard. Bucky let out his own chuckle. It felt good to be included in something that made her smile, even if it was only in their continuing pranks.

When Barton was safe on the elevator, Bucky descended from his hiding place to join Darcy. "That was perfect! Jarvis, please tell me you got that on video."

"Indeed, Darcy."

"Please send a copy to my phone and one to my laptop. I'm going to set his face as my background," she said with glee. "Thank you, Barnes. You were awesome. The perfect man for the job."

He couldn't help the way his chest swelled with pride at her words. Reaching forward, he stroked the back of her hand gently with his fingertips in thanks. He was healed enough to touch her, at least. That bright smile on her face froze in place. Her eyes widened and darkened. He felt the slight tremor that ran through her. She was not as unaffected by the attention as she pretended.

Smirking, he withdrew his hand. Though he wanted to tell her all the things on his mind, he still couldn't make the words form.

Darcy shook herself and the smile became natural again. "So...I'm thinking chicken paprikash for dinner," she said as she started toward the kitchen, watching him over her shoulder. It was one of the dishes he really enjoyed.

He gave her a nod in answer, the smirk still lighting his lips. She could keep running all she wanted. He welcomed the challenge. It was definitely time for him to dust off those old charms he used to have.

It had been three days since Barton had been painted with pink. Darcy was on high alert, watching for the revenge she knew he was planning. He wasn't the only one she was watching for. Barnes was also on her radar. He was springing up everywhere. And when he didn't appear himself, he left behind signs of his presence. Like the fresh flowers on the kitchen counter or the box of chocolates on her desk in Jane's lab.

She knew it wasn't Steve. The Captain was away from the Tower on some sort of mission with Natasha. She didn't know the details but all the Avengers, even Tony, had looked grim before the pair set off.

Perhaps all the attention from Barnes was some misplaced worry about Steve. Now that's stretching, it even for you, Lewis, her inner voice sassed.

Okay, maybe it wasn't that. But what other logical explanation was there. It couldn't be that Barnes was interested in her. Well it could be, she supposed. However, Darcy had never been that lucky in life. She already had a great job in plush surroundings and was friends with superheros. She shouldn't be getting interested looks from two hot men, especially at the same time. It was like asking for fate to strike her with lightening.

"Hey, good-lookin'," Sam called out as he entered Bruce's lab. The good doctor wasn't in, but Darcy had taken refuge in his calming space. "What are you doing in here?"

Immediately Darcy assumed the lotus pose, and closed her eyes. "I'm contemplating the magnitude of the universe."

"Uh huh. You want to tell me what you're really doing?"

Darcy opened her eyes to find him standing over her. "Come on, Goose. You're ruining the flow of cosmic energy."

Wilson rolled his eyes and took a seat beside her in the middle of Bruce's zen garden. He said nothing, as he attempted to wrap his legs into the same pose. When he final achieved it, with a little huff of victory, he closed his eyes and rested his hands on his knees.

A long minuted ticked by. Darcy knew what Sam was trying to do. He knew she hated silence, but she would not be drawn in. No way. She closed her eyes and breathed, trying to reach that state of meditation that Bruce always talked about. He had attempted to instruct her, but Darcy wasn't one for clearing the mind. Her mind was always buzzing with some random thought or another.

Another minuted dragged out. To Darcy it felt like ten.

Sam began to make soft "om" noises, mockingly.

Determined to ignore him, she tried to focus her mind on a safe subject. Dinner prep was safe enough. Tonight was going to be spaghetti and meatballs with cheesy garlic bread. She would make enough for the full contingent of Avengers, even though they were currently down two. Spaghetti kept well and leftovers could even be made into a baked spaghetti lasagna. She usually never had to worry about leftovers going to waste though. Thor, or Steve, or Barnes would be sure to need a late night snack at some point. The three men had large appetites. Jane had been complaining the other day about the amount of empty pop-tart boxes Thor had accumulated in their bedroom. It appeared he found the sugary food a great post-coital snack. Of course, Jane had also felt the need to mention that the boxes had only accumulated over one weekend. Thor's large appetite wasn't limited to food alone.

Were Steve and Bucky the same way? She knew they had great stamina. Watching them train together made her equal parts aroused and exhausted. They could just keep going and going and...

"Ah!" Darcy jumped to her feet and began pacing. Bad, Darcy. Bad, bad Darcy. Stupid meditation. Stupid Bruce. Stupid rock garden, she thought kicking at one of the stones.

Sam only watched her from his position on the floor, a speculative look in his eyes.

Deep breath, Lewis. Pull yourself together, her inner voice coached. "Not a word, Wilson," she said in warning. "I don't need a counseling session today." Her feet made depressions in the sand as she continued to pace.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied. "However, I was going to ask about Barnes."

She stilled. "What about him," she asked, careful not to let him see her face.

"The doctors are saying that he's seemed restless in the last few days. He hasn't said anything to me and Steve is out of contact for the moment, so I thought maybe you might know. Anything you want to share with the class?"

She wanted to lie. Really. The lie was even there, ready, on the tip of her tongue. Instead, her conscience pushed the truth passed her lips. "He might be pursuing me," she said with a flinch. It sounded ridiculous when she said it out loud like that.

There was no response from Sam. When she turned to him, he was in the same position. There was intense concentration on his face as if he was working through all the reasons her statement couldn't possibly be true. "Is this a problem," he finally asked.

It was her turn to look puzzled. "You're kidding right?"

"No. I really don't see the problem you seem to see. He is showing interest in a person other than Steve. That's healthy." A dark scowl crossed his brow. "He's not trying to force you to-"

"No! God, no," she said cutting him off. "He's just been leaving me gifts and showing up everywhere."

Sam looked relieved. He gave her a grin as he got to his feet. "I'll let the doctors know you're responsible for his behavior then, good-lookin'." He started for the door then turned back. "If its really bothering you, you can tell him to stop."

"I know."

"All right then." He paused as if to say more than thought better of it. "See ya later, good-lookin'!"

"Later, Goose," she called.

Tell him to stop. She could do that. On the life of her un-brewed coffees she could. Except...she really didn't want to. Maybe it was that streak of greed her Aunt had always complained about, but she liked the attention. She liked the attention from Steve and Bucky.

Burying her face in her hands, she gave an aggravated groan. Was she really this pathetic and attention starved that she was leading the two super soldiers on? She didn't think she was, but maybe subconsciously?

But this wasn't freshman year of college where a handful of random hookups, lots of alcohol, and one very memorable weekend with an older couple could be brushed under the rug when she returned to real-life. This was real-life. This was her home. If she actually acknowledged Steve or Bucky or both as more than friends and screwed it up (and not in the good way), then things would be awkward and strained. She might even have to leave the Tower. The saying 'don't shit where you sleep' came to mind.

On the other hand it could turn out to be wonderful, some little hopeful piece of her offered.

She scoffed at the chances of that.

Later that same afternoon, she was doing an inventory in the kitchen when she turned around to find Barnes watching her from the doorway. He looked relaxed as he leaned against the door frame, that devilish smirk in play.

"Hey, big guy," she said with a smile she couldn't seem to stop. "What are you up to?"

She wasn't really expecting any sort of answer. Which was why she wasn't prepared to tamp down the squeal of excitement when he produced her favorite iced mocha from behind his back.

"Oh my god! Where did you get this?" She didn't think he was allowed to leave the Tower, but maybe he'd had it delivered or something. "This is the best. I haven't had one of these in months. Thank you," she told him as she wrapped her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug.

Immediately, he tensed. She remembered (belatedly) that he did not like being touched, but before she could disentangle herself she caught sight of Steve. He was standing a few feet behind Barnes and he looked terrible. He was still in his Captain America getup and was smeared with soot, and dirt, and something rust colored that might have been blood. None of that was what had Darcy freezing in place though. The murderous scowl on his face turned her insides to ice. All of the happy she had been feeling wiped away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing," he demanded.

Steve was exhausted. It wasn't from going 48 hours without sleep, or from having to battle two dozen Hydra minions. It wasn't even from trudging through that sweltering southern swamp in the August heat, or the fighting through the flames that had been set to trap Natasha and himself in that abandoned farmhouse. Though they may have contributed.

Steve was drained because he missed home. Thankfully he was on his way back now, riding in the quin-jet that Stark had provided.

Frustration had begun to eat at him in the last week. It only strengthened his exhaustion. He knew it was mostly his fault that things with Darcy weren't progressing as quickly as they should. But he had thought that the kiss had given Darcy had been clear. He wasn't good with words when it came to relationships. He felt more secure when he could simply show his feeling on a subject and not have to have a discussion about it. However, Darcy was definitely not taking the hints.

They were only ten minutes from the Tower when the transmission from Jarvis came over the line. "Captain Rogers, Sir wishes me to inform you that Sergeant Barnes appears to have left the Tower."

"What," he demanded.

"Approximately, an hour ago," Jarvis began, but Steve cut him off.

"Just patch Tony through," he ordered, his voice hard.

"Cap?"

"What's going on, Tony?"

Tony seemed relaxed as ever. "It seems your stray flew the coop. Not sure how he did it yet. He's a sneaky bastard. No one even knew he was gone until he got back."

Steve was feeling anything but relaxed. His hands clenched at his sides. "Where did he go?"

"Jarvis is working on that. Have to hack a few of the city's traffic cameras and whatnot to see where the trail leads. I'll let you know as soon as I get an answer but he didn't go far. He was only off radar for half an hour, tops," Tony assured, seeming to sense Steve's tight control.

Tony disconnected then as Natasha set the jet down on the small landing pad on the roof.

Steve was moving quickly when the bay door opened. He took stairs, calling out to Jarvis for Bucky's location as he went. When he entered the common floor and heard Darcy's squeal, he nearly stumbled. For one sickening moment, he feared that Bucky had relapsed and that he was going to hurt her. He ran forward. Hearing her happy voice brought a wave of relief. That was until he caught sight of them. As her arms came around Bucky, he saw the way the other man tensed. He saw how she froze.

Anger rose quick and sharp.

"What the hell do you think you're doing," he demanded. He wasn't even sure who the question was directed at honestly.

Darcy jumped back looking vaguely guilty.

Bucky spun around sliding into a crouch that chilled Steve's blood. Steve held up his hands, his tone going for comforting. "Buck. It's all right." Those blue eyes he loved looked hazy with troubled thoughts. "I'm here Bucky. I'm with you. Stay with me okay."

Darcy sensed the danger and kept very still where she was while Bucky fought his way back to the surface. It took only minutes, but it was agonizing for Steve to watch.

"Are you with me Buck," he questioned.

The brunette gave an all over shake, like a dog, then smiled thinly. "I'm with ya, Steve." He stepped out of the kitchen doorway and leaned against the wall, breathing as if he'd been running for miles.

Steve gave one huge sigh of relief, before his anger boiled back to the surface. He was deadly calm when he turned to Darcy. Hands clenched at his sides, he spoke softly. "Don't do that again."

He turned before he could see her reaction or hear a response. He coaxed Bucky away from the wall, into the elevator, and back to their floor before realizing that he probably should have explained himself a little better to the woman he'd left standing the kitchen. For the moment, he shrugged it off. He would explain tomorrow, he told himself as he gathered a still panting Bucky into his arms.

Darcy stood in the kitchen. Long after Barnes and Rogers got onto the elevator and left. She had fucked up. Oh god, she had so fucked up.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Darcy."

"Where did Steve go? I need to apologize." She also needed to make sure Bucky was okay.

"Indeed, Darcy. Captain Rogers is currently in his residence. You have access," he added, as if he could see her internal debate about whether to intrude.

She nodded mutely and headed for the elevator. She felt lower than dirt. She knew Barnes didn't like being touched. That was the whole damn reason she hadn't touched him in the last six months. What the hell where you thinking, her inner voice demanded. The answer was obvious. She hadn't been.

The elevator doors opened soundlessly. Darcy rooted to the spot.

Steve and Bucky hadn't made it very far. They were only a dozen feet away, but they wouldn't notice her presence. They were too wrapped up in each other. Even though Steve was dirty and bloody, Bucky clung to him. Steve's hands were clenched in Bucky's hair as he devoured the other man's mouth.

Darcy Lewis was often inappropriate and rude, but she could never bring herself in interrupt the two men. Not while they shared a moment like that.

The doors slid closed again. "Darcy," Jarvis questioned, sensing her unsettled mood.

"Take me to my floor, please."

As the elevator began to move, Jarvis queried if she was all right.

"Yes, fine," she replied distractedly. "Just finally had my questions answered."


	17. Chapter 17

Darcy was avoiding the super soldier twins. She had to, for two very good reasons. First of all, she looked like shit. Unable to sleep, she had spent the night pacing with her headphones in. (No one needed to know about the half empty box of tissues and the totally empty bottle of wine.) She felt like Tony looked after one of his science benders.

Second, she wasn't actually sure what she would do or say when she ran into them. The options ran the gambit, as one moment she thought she might kick them in the shins for making her think there could be more between them, and the next moment she thought she might burst into tears.

Unwillingly to find out which reaction would come out on top, she was hiding in her room. It was early enough that no one would really be expecting her to be out and about. However_ she_ knew she was hiding. She admitted, to herself at least, that she was coward.

Staring in the bathroom mirror, she decided that the best medicine would be some retail therapy. She needed a break from all the testosterone and sexual frustration. Living in the Tower had given a boost to her savings, as Tony provided nearly everything the inhabitants needed. Now it was time to splurge a little.

Her digital buddy could tell her mood from the strength of the coffee she went for. Killer tunes began to float through the air along with scent of brewing grounds. She gave the ghost of a smile and a soft thanks that she was sure Jarvis heard.

The divas of girl power (Christina, Beyonce, Aretha, and the Spice Girls) pushed her through her long shower and the task of picking out her armor from the day. It was hot out, so she choose to forego her favorite public wear of beanie and scarf. Instead she went for one of the few summery dresses she owned. Pulling it on with the low boots Tasha had bought her, she studied the results. Eh, not bad. Usually she choose to downplay her bust, but the dress definitely didn't. Floating on a river of I-am-woman-hear-me-roar, she felt empowered rather than self-conscious.

She was almost ready, third cup of coffee in hand, when Natasha appeared. Crossing her arms over her chest, the ex-Russian lounged in the doorway, effectively blocking the exit.

"Where are you off to, sestrenka," she queried.

Taking a long hit from the mug in her hand, Darcy contemplated her answer. "I'm not really sure. Just need a little fresh air," she finally told the spy.

"You shouldn't go." Something in Natasha's tone set off warning bells in the back of her mind, but she was a master of avoidance and brushed them aside.

She knew that there had been some security concerns as of late, but it didn't have anything to do with her. She was a glorified lab assistant, not a hero... or the girlfriend of one. Rolling her eyes, she turned away from the spy. "I'm going," she stated firmly.

Natasha grabbed her elbow as she put the empty coffee cup in the sink. "You need to have a bodyguard with you."

"I really don't," she insisted, wriggling her elbow out of Tasha's hold.

"You do." The tone was final.

Another eye roll from Darcy because even her blessed coffee couldn't smooth out the sassy mood she was in. "Fine. Whatever." She didn't want any more muscly men around. She didn't want to hear what she should or shouldn't do especially from one of the powerful and perfect Avengers. "I'll get one of Stark's security goons. Okay?"

Natasha gave a single nod before striding away, confident the younger woman would obey her instructions.

Darcy stuck her tongue out Natasha's retreating back. She was aware she was being a bit of a bitch, but Tasha would understand. She would apologize later, when she got back from shopping and felt normal again. There would be plenty of time.

"Shall I contact security for you, Darcy," Jarvis asked.

"Nah. I got this one," her tone clearly telling him to leave it alone. She assumed that would be the end of it as Jarvis had learned long ago that she could be stubborn when she used that voice.

"Darcy, I feel must inform you that Ms. Romanov will be sure to follow up, and that lying to her has never gone well for Sir or Mr. Barton."

She almost laughed at that pronouncement. Instead, she scrambled for a likely excuse that would keep everyone happy. "No problem, Jarvis. I just decided I really don't want one of Stark's squad. I'll get Sam to take me."

"Very well, Darcy," Jarvis intoned as she stepped out of her apartment.

All she had to do was get downstairs. Once she was out of the building, she would be able to sort everything out. Living in the Tower was like being in a bubble. A very luxurious bubble. She had lost touch somehow. Out among the average citizens of New York, she would get her perspective back she was certain.

The elevator slid open for her before she even stepped up to the door.

For a moment, as the elevator doors slid closed, she debated calling Sam. He would meet Natasha's requirement for bodyguard surely. But she didn't want one. Maybe she was being stubborn. It was known to happen. However, Sam would start analyzing and she would be trying to do her avoidance tactics and in the end she wouldn't get the full effect of being outside the Tower's sphere of influence.

On the other hand, Tasha would be pissed and that was a scary thought.

A noise above her startled her out of her contemplation. The maintenance hatch cracked open. "I swear to god," she began, thinking it was Barton finally coming for his revenge. She was not in the mood. Her words died on her tongue when Bucky jumped down into the car.

She had never been scared of his presence, but there were times when she had a healthy respect for the way he could snap her neck faster than she could blink. Now was one of those times.

As he straightened from the crouch he had landed in, his eyes burned over her. The fact that this caused as much arousal as nerves probably said something about her twisted personality. When his gaze met hers she could see the desire. Sweet Jesus. Those eyes. A shiver ran through her.

He noticed. That devilish smirk lit his lips, his eyes twinkling.

"Barnes," she said, her voice rough. Clearing her dry throat, she tried again. "Barnes, I want to say that I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to -"

His hand on her cheek stopped all speech. He stepped closer, his heat reaching out for her. For a moment they both stood frozen. Then he attacked.

All thoughts fled as he shoved her into the wall. There was a hand in her hair another at her hip, but she barely registered the pressure. He was plundering her mouth. Plundering. Like a freakin' metal pirate. All the while his body nudged against hers in the most delicious way.

Her hands were clenched in his shirt. Her mind left the building, as he nipped at her lip.

When he finally let her up to breathe, she could only stare at him with desire-drugged eyes, little sparks of need flitting along her skin.

"Barnes." This time his name on her lips was a plea or a question or a sigh. Even she didn't know.

He stepped back reluctantly, the flesh hand that had been in her hair sliding over her cheek. His finger bopped her nose and that smirk reappeared.

She was speechless.

Of course, he said nothing. He moved toward the elevator doors and they opened revealing the common floor. At some point, the car had stopped moving and she hadn't even noticed.

When the doors closed and the elevator began to move again, the back of her head thudded against the wall. What the ever-loving-fuck had _that_ been?

Half an hour later Darcy was walking into a pricey salon that Pepper had recommended. It was the sort of place that catered to rich stick-figure women. The kind of place that usually set Darcy's insecurities about her hips and bust into full gear. Right now, she honestly couldn't work up the nerves for it to bother her. It might have had something to do with way she still felt drunk from Bucky's kiss. It was obvious he wasn't upset with her for the night before, especially after the way he had man-handled her.

It was slowly sinking in that he had kissed her. If her hair hadn't been messed she might have thought she imagined it. But it had really happened. He kissed her. He'd plundered. Christ-on-a-cracker! She could still feel the pressure of his hard body against hers. His tight muscles generating more heat than the summer sun. Goosebumps rose on her arms at the memory.

Upon first seeing her, the chic woman behind the front desk of the salon had turned up her nose. Darcy hadn't been offended though she gave the woman a look over the rim of her glasses. She was sporting smudged lipstick and mussed hair, the picture of dishevelment, but she didn't care. No fucks were given this day. She wanted to tell the dyed blonde that her current look was due to being assaulted by one of the most feared assassins in the world, and that her obviously disdain had no effect.

"Can I help you," the receptionist asked with chill in her voice.

"Hopefully," Darcy replied, falsely sweet. "My friend mentioned that this is the best place for a little pampering and I severely need a manicure and a style." She motioned to her hair. "Do you have anything available?"

The woman produced a snobbish smile. "I'm so sorry. We don't have anything available today."

Darcy pouted her lips. "Oh that's_ so_ disappointing," she said reaching for her phone. "I'll have to let Pepper know. Maybe she can recommend somewhere else."

"Pepper?"

Darcy's smile held the slightest edge. "Yes. Pepper Potts."

For a split second, the woman's face was priceless. It was a mix of oh-shit-I-am-so-fired and seriously-_the_-Pepper-Potts. Darcy restrained her laugher. "Could you wait just a moment," the woman asked. "Let me see if I can squeeze you in."

Darcy took a seat and waited while the woman undoubtedly went to discuss this development with her co-workers. Her mood was better than earlier this morning; her level of sass more manageable. Being able to step all over the receptionist's preconceived notions, lifted her mood all the more.

The woman returned, all pleasant and welcoming smiles this time.

"I was able to slip you in. If you'd follow me, Miss….

"Lewis," Darcy supplied, standing.

Steve was the most awful man on the planet. He knew he was. He didn't need confirmation from Bucky, though the other man had been happy to provide it. He wasn't sure if Darcy would speak to him again, as he rode the elevator to her floor, but he was determined to try.

By the time he'd gotten Bucky sorted last night, he had been asleep on his feet. He'd given a thought to calling to apologize then but the kind of grovelling he needed to do had to be done in person. He decided to go in the morning.

This morning he had gone on a long run, trying to wait until a reasonable enough hour, assuming Darcy wouldn't appreciate being woken before 9 a.m. While his feet pounded on the reinforced treadmill, his mind replayed the way he had spoken to her over and over, taunting him with his mistake. He hadn't meant to be so harsh. It had happened too fast. He had been sleep deprived, worried about Bucky, and wounded. None of those were good excuses though. He knew that. He should have been better. More like the man his Mama had hoped he'd be, like the man Darcy deserved.

Arriving at her door, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. This was it. Even if she chose to never see him again, he would respect her wishes but first he had to clear the air.

He knocked and waited.

There was no answer. He raised his hand intending to knock again. He refused to be defeated before she knew how important she was.

"Miss Lewis has gone out," Jarvis helpfully informed, though the tone seemed disapproving of his general existence. "She did not indicate when she would be returning."

"She went out," he questioned, fear chilling him.

"Indeed, Captain Rogers. Miss Romanov has already impressed upon Miss Lewis the need for extra precaution." The fear receded slightly but didn't dissipate.

"Can you let me know when Darcy comes back?"

"Indeed, Captain Rogers."

"Thank you," he said as he turned away from her silent door. Jarvis didn't reply further. Darcy had always been his favorite.

Bucky was also missing when he returned to their floor. He had been avoiding Steve all morning. After the frank talk they'd had last night, he knew Bucky wasn't going to sneak off again. Steve figured he deserved the cold shoulder from him anyway.

He settled down with his sketchbook while turning over what he would say to Darcy when he finally was able. It was past time for him to lay his cards on the table. He needed to tell her how wonderful she was. How just seeing her smile made him happy. She needed to know that he would do anything for her. That he had never meant to hurt her in any way, even though he'd done nothing but.

Closing his eyes he saw her face. In his mind's eye he saw her joy when he had returned unannounced from DC. He saw her concern for him when he talked about Bucky. He saw the way she lit up from within when she smiled. And the indulgent way she had let him drag her around the museum.

She was everything good in this world, and all he had done was push her away and make her feel unwelcome.

Page after page became filled with Darcy's face as he spent the next few hours waiting for her return.

Suddenly the elevator opened and Natasha walked in. She said nothing as she took a seat beside him. Then gave a firm smack to the back of his head.

He rubbed at the spot, looking to her questioningly.

"You're being an idiot," she stated in her no-nonsense way. He didn't have to ask what she was referring to.

"I know."

"You better apologize to her when she gets back from shopping." Concern washed over his face, but she held up a hand to forestall his question. "She took security with her. Don't try to change the subject." He wasn't convinced. Hydra wasn't some street thug or mugger, and they had plans to retrieved the Winter Soldier. It was why he had come home bloody and exhausted yesterday.

"I plan to apologize."

"Cause you're the man with a plan," she asked sarcastically.

He stiffened at that. "No. Because I love her." He hadn't actually planned on saying it, but he didn't attempt to backtrack. It was true.

She turned to him with eyebrows raised. "Want to repeat that, Rogers?"

"You heard me, Romanov," he said without rancor. She gave him a long stare but he would not be intimidated. He would stand by his pronouncement.

The smile she gave him was slow in coming but it was genuine. "Alright, Rogers. If that's the way it is then I'll help. Since you keep making such a mess of things. First, let's find out where she is and when she's planning on being back. Jarvis, who went with Darcy from security?"

"She elected to have Sam accompany her," came the prompt reply.

As if on cue, the elevator doors opened and Sam stepped in. He paused for a moment taking in the ginning Natasha and resolute-faced Steve. "Should I come back later," he asked, taking one step backward.

"Not at all," Natasha said, as she stood and strode toward him. Her smile was teasing as she looked him up and down. "So did you get anything nice? Maybe something with little heel? I'm sure it will make your ass look fabulous."

Sam looked at her as if she'd lost her mind but he replied gamely. "My ass always looks fabulous, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

Natasha went still. A predator about to pounce. "What?"

He looked to Steve. "Am I missing something?"

Steve shared a grim look with Natasha. "You weren't with Darcy," he asked, hoping the dread crawling into his gut was misplaced.

"No," Sam replied with confusion creasing his brow. Concern grew as he took in their serious faces. "What is-"

Steve was on his feet before Sam could finish his question. "Jarvis! Call Tony."

Darcy had enjoyed several hours of peaceful shopping. She was feeling good. Between the manicure, the hairstyle, and some new cute shoes, she had found a bit of comfort. Sitting in a little coffee shop, she was enjoying a mid-day mocha while she pondered what to do with the two men who had come to mean so much to her.

For the last ten minutes, however, she had been listening to a discussion between two stuck-up bitches at the table behind her. The first, who Darcy was calling Ditzy, was explaining how she planned to dump her man because there was no thrill. He was always doing whatever she wanted, catering to her.

"He's just_ so_ boring," Ditzy complained. "Anton, on the other hand…" She gave a dreamy sigh, as if he was too amazing for words. "I mean, I know he hasn't really been obvious, but I _know_ he's interested. He just likes playing the game."

Her friend enthusiastically agreed, but had one warning. "All I'm saying is to be careful because he can be kind of douchey."

Darcy scoffed. Sounded like Ditzy and Douchey deserved each other. For a moment she was tempted to lean over and tell the two women that.

Instead she stood, gathered her bags, and tossed her empty cup into the trash with more force than strictly necessary.

Ditzy should be happy with anyone who put up with her spoiled nature. Didn't the saying go 'love the one you're with' or something?

Not like she had room to talk exactly.

Though she might not have been sleeping with either of the super soldiers, the boys were certainly acting like they were "going steady". It was anything but ordinary in the course of Darcy's experience. That was part of the problem. In all her past relationships she had been quick to jump beneath the sheets. Sex was the best rollercoaster in the amusement park. There should be no waiting.

She should have been jumping for joy to have Steve and Bucky both seemingly interested in her. They certainly would be a ride worth the admission price.

Why aren't I, she questioned herself.

The thought gave her pause.

She meandered into a lingerie shop she had stopped in front of as she tried to work it out. She gave a distracted smile to one of the employees who called out a greeting.

A large poster of an obviously photoshopped model caught her eye. Studying the flawless woman she wondered if either of her boys would be interested in someone like that. Woah! Hold up. Since when are they your boys, her inner voice asked.

Ignoring the Freudian slip, she tried to picture a woman that would look good between them. One they would both want. They could have anyone.

And wasn't that crux of the whole problem. They could have anyone so why on Earth had they only come after her. In Bucky's case it could be limited options but he hadn't gone after Natasha and they shared that brooding Russian mystique. By Steve's own admission he dated no one in DC though there were offers.

Let's look at this like Jane would she thought. (Jane was always the best example to use when she had to think something through logically). The scientist would tell her to "eliminate the possibilities until you have an answer". Okay. She could totally handle that.

So the Captain and the Soldier were into each other (hot) but they were still open. As evidence by the two unique (and extremely hot) kisses they had given her. She didn't believe for a second that they would play games with her or anyone else. But even with opportunity they had not pursued others. So they weren't looking for some quick bed hopping.

Oh. My. God. They might actually want _me_. Not my boobs, or my smart mouth, or my muffins (baked goods, mind out of the gutter). Me.

Looking in the mirror beside a display of push-up bras, she gave herself a mental slap.  
You are an idiot, she told her reflection. They had been practically waving flags in her face, trying to get her to notice. She had turned a blind eye on it all. Why? Oh, because she thought she wasn't good enough. Obviously they thought she was. Who was she to argue?

She spun on her heel and exited the store, without responding to the "have a nice day" the shopgirl threw her way. She had to get back to the Tower and tell them how she felt. They obviously were waiting for some kind of sign from her.

It made sense. And even if she was way off base at least it would be out in the open. No more confusion, no more secret wanting. No more 'me-time' while she fantasized about watching the two of them.

And if her theory was right….(and she was really hoping it was due to that fabulously encouraging kiss in the elevator)... she was going to walk right up to them and drag their asses to the nearest bedroom. They were going to be sexed six-ways-to-Sunday and they were sure as hell going to enjoy it.

The thought gave her a face splitting smile. Today was going to be a good day.

She was so intent on her thoughts that she wasn't watching for the constant threats that New York held.

She saw them far too late. Two men in black suits behind her, reflected in the glass of the building.

Natasha's insistence on protection played though her mind mockingly as she dropped her bags and fumbled for her taser. The men didn't hurry their approach even as they watched her dig for her only weapon. Their obvious self-assurance made her heart pound.

She tried to fight. She really did. But it was useless.

One kept a hand over her mouth as the other snapped restraints on her wrists.

They were terrifyingly strong. Not super-human strong or alien-god strong. But that was so much worse. These were ordinary men. Trained fighters, but men. And men always made the worst monsters.

They dragged her into an alley where a nondescript SUV was idling, another man in the driver's seat.

As they opened the back door, the world began to fade. She saw the man to her right toss an empty syringe to the pavement. She had never even felt the prick.

Today had been starting to look like such a good day, she thought sadly as unconsciousness came to swallow her.


	18. Chapter 18

Bucky had been practically skipping around the Tower since he had cornered Darcy in the elevator. He had been whistling some nameless happy tune and wandering, ignoring Tony's raised eyebrows and Natasha's contemplative pout.

He couldn't sit still. He didn't want to go back to his and Steve's apartment. Not until Steve sorted himself. Instead, he added a few pieces to the puzzle someone had started in the common room. He searched romantic movies on his tablet, planning to watch them in more seclusion than at the weekly movie night. He snacked on one of Darcy's homemade muffins, imagining her wearing a sweet little apron and nothing else. Then he did one armed push-ups on the balcony, enjoying the dim noises from the city below him.

He would be down there soon. Darcy and Steve were healing him. A little more time; he could be patient.

Right after the kiss, he would admit that he had considered going back and jumping Steve. He had been ramped up. Hard and wanting. He had chosen to "walk if off" with a few rounds in the gym. Sweat pouring off him, he still hadn't been able to get the feel of her sweet curves pressed against him out of his mind. He'd been forced to take himself in hand in the locker room shower.

The relief was short-lived.

Didn't matter though. Darcy was going to be theirs. Her face couldn't lie. She wanted him. And he had seen how she looked at Steve. She wanted the blonde too. He had no doubts about getting her to see how great it could be for the three of them. (His mama had always said he had more charm than the devil.)

He knew Natasha had given her tacit approval to the pursuit as she hadn't knifed Steve. Which meant the field was wide open for Bucky to make his play. Steve may have been the better tactician on the battlefield, but Bucky had always been better with dames. He could now remember all those nights he'd taken some girl he was keen on dancing. But none of those nights had been as good as what being with Darcy was going to be like. He could tell already from the way she had responded to his kiss. Her voice saying his name as he pulled away had sounded like a plea and god wouldn't he love to hear her beg.

Blowing out a breath, he tried to cut off that line of thinking. He had left Steve to his own devices for the whole morning and now he was on his way back to see what the punk was up to.

Last night had not been pleasant. It had been a harsh reminder that he wasn't quite healed. But it hadn't been as bad as he'd imagined. He had felt the Asset programming starting to rise. And he held it down. Stomped it down, with the force of his freed memories and emotions. Darcy freezing with her arms around him had nearly lost him the battle. He had immediately thought there was some sort of threat to her when she'd jumped back. With his mind turning to how to protect her, the Asset had gained a foothold. He had almost lunged at Steve, his hand twitching for the knife he had concealed in his boot.

Thankfully, he had reeled the monster back in. It had been a struggle, more draining than any physical fight, but he prevailed.

Steve had to half-carry him back to their rooms. He had allowed it because his control had been compromised and he didn't want to risk Darcy being in the line of fire if it slipped once more.

The talk (lecture) that he'd given Steve after had been a little ugly.

He loved the man. With everything that was in him.

But he was an idiot.

If there was an award for worst handling of a woman, Steve would be winning it with his pursuit of Darcy. Bucky was hoping that Steve was going to wise-up and lay that lion's heart on the line so Darcy could see how he really felt.

If it wasn't fixed after today, Bucky was going to figure out a way to do it himself.

As he entered the apartment all he could hear was raised voices. Mostly it was Natasha and Sam, but Steve was in the mix too. Surprising, since the Captain rarely raised his voice. Tony and Clint were trying to be heard as well from the holographic screen on the wall.

He listened for a minute trying to sort out what was causing all the commotion.

Then he heard Darcy's name.

Menace awakened in his mind. It wasn't the calculating chill of the Asset. This was red hot. This was all James Buchanan Barnes.

Suddenly his metal arm crashed into the wall from elbow to forearm, smashing through the drywall and cracking the beam beneath.

All eyes converged on him. "Where is she," he growled.

Silence met Bucky's demand.

Steve couldn't draw in enough breath to answer. He felt like that sickly child again; his lungs unable to support his need for oxygen. His chest was tight and the feeling only increased when Natasha answered.

"We don't know." Her face was impassive, a mask, but tension kept her rigid.

"But we're working on it," Tony piped in. "Though I'm sure Lewis is just camped out in Starbucks or something." He appeared the least worried, but Steve knew it was all on the surface. He could see the way Tony's fingers were scrambling over his projected keyboard. Attempting to track Darcy himself rather than let Jarvis handle it.

"I've got a fix on her phone. Jarvis, pull up the nearest camera feed," he instructed.

Another monitor burst into life so that Steve and the others could see what Tony and Clint could. The video was a live view of the street. People hurried along at the normal New York pace. Everything seemed in order. Except one thing. No Darcy.

"The alley," Clint said. His sharp eyes trained on screen over Tony's shoulder.

Tony focused the video on the alley to the far right of the camera's view. There was a sharp inhale from someone. Steve could see it too. A familiar violet bag. The same shade as her custom taser.

"Jarvis," Tony began but he didn't even have to ask. Jarvis was already pulling up other cameras, other angles, rolling the scene back.

They watched in growing horror as a smiling Darcy exited a store and turned as if to head home. She was lost in thought so she didn't see when the two men stepped out from a doorway and began to follow. It was easy to see when she noticed the danger as she dropped her bags carelessly and began digging in her purse. When the men got too close she tossed the bag aside and tried to fight. God, she tried.

He couldn't even blink. His gaze fixed on her as she struggled as if by willpower alone he could change what had already happened.

He heard Natasha whispering under her breath in Russian, unaware he could understand her. "_Too slow. Too slow_."

It was over quickly. She hadn't stood a chance.

As she was dragged away and stuffed, unresisting, into a black vehicle, Steve felt his world tilt. It was the same sickening sensation he had felt when he'd unmasked the Winter Soldier.

This wasn't some random mugger or senseless gang violence. This was co-ordinated, planned. This was their enemies coming after an innocent they all cared for.v

"Hydra," Bucky spat, confirming what Steve was already thinking.v

"Tony," Steve called, his voice pitched for battle, anger rising. The older man met his enraged gaze with fire of his own. "Find her."

For once, Tony had nothing to say. He gave a sharp nod then began to track the route the vehicle had taken through the city. The enemy had a head start, but it didn't matter.

Hydra had gone too far. They had brought the battle to the Tower, to his home.

The retaliation would be savage. This wasn't the steadfast Captain America, America's golden boy, that sounded the alarm. Oh no. This was Steve Rogers. The scrapper from Brooklyn. The man who was reckless and deadly.

As the other Avengers came online, Steve remained placid on the surface. Inside he raged. He was personally going to tear Hydra's world apart.

And when they got Darcy back…. he would make sure no one hurt her again. Himself included.

Steve turned away from the screen that was tracking the SUV from various cameras. He needed his gear. They may not know where Darcy had been taken yet, but he had faith in Stark's genius.

Grabbing his shield from where it leaned against the wall, he turned back to almost ran right into Bucky. "I'm going," Bucky declared, his jaw set, eyes flashing with anger and determination.

Steve gave one nod, not even attempting to argue. He recognized that look on Bucky's face. If he wasn't allowed to come with them he would undoubtedly go on his own.  
Immediately Bucky began retrieving weapons from hidden places all over the apartment. As he watched Bucky pull a large knife from beneath his drawing desk, he couldn't help but raise a brow.

"How long has that been there exactly?"

Bucky smirked. "Really wanna know?"

Steve shook his head. No doubt he wouldn't like the answer.

The team shuffled into the common room where Tony was already sitting, a tumbler of scotch dangling from his fingers. The suit had gotten him home far faster than the quinjet in which the rest of them traveled.

It had been over 72 hours and they were no closer to finding Darcy, though they'd already had a couple minor run-ins with Hydra. They had agreed a re-group was needed.

When they had first gotten a lead on where the SUV had gone, everyone had rushed to suit up and head out. Bucky had demanded to be included. Steve had backed him, and surprisingly no one had argued.

Though the majority of Steve's concentration had been on Darcy he kept a close eye on Bucky. It was as if Darcy's disappearance had finally snapped something loose in the brunette. He seemed more like the wise guy from Brooklyn that Steve remembered. His focus was intense as ever, his reactions that of a soldier but he was talking more. He had even cracked a joke that had Barton and Tony snickering. It had been inappropriate for the situation but Steve hadn't reprimanded them. At this point, they needed the levity to keep going.

Hydra had planned for every contingency. The vehicle which carried Darcy had pulled into a warehouse outside the city. Tony had only been able to track them that far using hacked satellite images. Two minutes later, five vehicles of the exact same make had exited the building.

Each of those had then taken separate routes, and repeated the same process. It had been impossible for them to tell which vehicle held Darcy or if she was even still in a vehicle. They had been able to track down some of the cars which had been abandoned in the oddest of places. One at a strip club, another a kid-centric arcade. The chase became more convoluted the further they tried to dig.

Even Tony had been impressed though he commented that it seemed to be a lot of trouble for one lab assistant. Steve had refrained from punching him in his goatee. Though just barely.

Natasha had not felt such restraint was needed. Tony was still sporting a colorful bruise from where his face had connected with the table.

Pepper sat beside Tony, her hand on his knee. She gave Thor a sympathetic smile. "Jane went to bed. She asked me to let you know." The astrophysicist had taken Darcy's nabbing hard. Thor gave a regal nod of thanks and returned to the elevator.

The rest of them collapsed into the various open seats. The silence was oppressive, an indication of their failure.

Surprisingly it was Barton who spoke first. He was sitting on the back of Natasha's chair, his legs dangling on either side of her. His voice was distracted, as if he wasn't quite speaking to them. "I should call him."

"Call who," Steve asked tiredly.

Beside him, Bucky cocked his head, as if the question had been directed at him. Barton opened his mouth but Bucky beat him to the punch. "Coulson."

Ever the optimist, Tony gave a snort. "Agent won't be able to find her if we can't. SHIELD is barely holding their ground as it is."

"We won't know until we try," Bruce offered from his crossed-legged position on the ottoman.

Steve gave a nod to the archer. "Do it." It was a wonder they hadn't thought of contacting Coulson before. To be fair, they had been relying on themselves for over a year now. Calling someone outside the Tower felt strange.

Barton flipped himself off the back of the chair and went to make the call in private. Natasha held her spot for almost thirty seconds before she followed. No one commented on the speed of her retreat.

After she left, the rest of the group began to break up. They all needed rest, but when Bucky and Steve finally made it back to their floor Steve found he couldn't sleep.

Laying beside Bucky in the dark, he felt a hand nudge his.

"You need to sleep, punk. She'll be pissed if you're too exhausted from sleep deprivation to sweep her off her feet with some daring rescue."

He knew Bucky was trying to joke his way through this, the way they had done back in the war. But he didn't know if he could this time. "She must be so scared, Buck."

A dark chuckle floated through air. "She's fearless, Stevie. She isn't going to let a little thing like kidnapping slow her down. I bet you by the end of the week, Hydra will drop her back on our doorstep because they won't be able to handle her."

Though he smiled gamely, he knew chances of her being dropped off alive and whole were slim.

He thought Bucky had fallen to sleep when the silence stretched.

"We'll get her back." Bucky's voice was quiet but firm.

Steve finally reached back, grabbing at the other man's hand and squeezing. "We will. And I'll make sure she knows that I won't cause her anymore problems."

Bucky's growl was unmistakably frustrated. "Just shut up and sleep punk. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

The holographic screen that sprung to life in front of Steve's face did not surprise him. Tony had been trying to contact him all morning. The bastard had even tried having Jarvis lock him out of the gym to force him to listen.

The twisted metal remains of the door showed how successful that strategy had been.

Steve held back the punch he had been planning to throw, as the screen had popped into existence between him and punching bag. It wouldn't be satisfying to punch through the hologram as it was just air. Even if Tony's face was right in the middle of it.

"You can't ignore me," Tony said, his voice hard with the same anger Steve felt.

"I can," Steve replied stubbornly, "especially when you're being stupid." He could think of a few other adjectives but he bit his tongue.

"No you really can't Rogers. You have to face this. There's been no ransom. No sightings."

"No one's found a body yet either," he argued. "They kept Bucky for 70 years."

"Yeah, but he had super serum in his blood. He was useful."

Steve whirled away from the screen. His white-knuckled fists were clenched at his sides. He blew out a hard breath through his nose, barely keeping the whip of fury from lashing out.

The silence was strained. When Tony spoke again his voice was softer, tinged with guilt. "Steve. You know that you have to be rational and face the possibility that she might -"

He threw up a hand to stop Tony from speaking. Surprisingly he did.

Turning back, Steve took a deep breath. "If we find some evidence that she is-." His words faltered. "...That she is gone. Then I will stop. Until then I'm going to keep at this pace." Tony opened his mouth to throw in some comment, but Steve's glare had his mouth snapping shut. "No one else has to do this with me. I'm not asking you to."

There was a snort of derision from the doorway. "Like anyone would ever make you ask." Bucky strode in, his eyes burning with anger and frustration and a million other emotions Steve didn't want to see.

He took a stance beside Steve facing Tony on the monitor. "I've got this, Stark."

When Tony tried again to speak, Bucky simply snapped a punch through the hologram bursting it into a shower of flickering lights. He tossed a smirk in Steve's direction. "That was vaguely satisfying," he remarked.

Steve rolled his eyes and turned to face the wall of windows. Bucky remained patiently silent. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, one knee bent with foot resting on the wall. Closing his eyes, he waited.

"I won't give up on her, Buck."

"No one was suggesting that you do," Bucky returned serenely, without bothering to open his eyes.

It was strange to feel so out of control, Steve thought. Especially when Bucky was holding it together so well. He turned around to look over his lover.

They were lovers now. They had finally come together in desperation a week after Darcy went missing. There had been nothing sweet about their first night. It had been bruising kisses and a fight for dominance, that had left them marked the next day. In the times since, there had been tenderness but there was still a void.

Bucky could feel it too. He had mentioned it several times, but not in the last few weeks. The longer Darcy was away the worse his nightmares became, as if he was imagining what they were doing to her and it was triggering his own memories. Steve's heart broke each time a moan or scream startled him out of sleep.

Somehow, though his nightmares had worsened, each dawn brought a more healed Bucky to light.

Bucky squinted one eye open obviously feeling his scrutiny. "Are we going to talk about this? Or are you just planning on staring me down?" He dropped his to foot the floor and pushed off the wall. "Cause I have to tell you, punk, that your puppy eyes get much better results than your stare."v

Steve couldn't help the huff of amusement. Bucky had always known how to get him to smile, even at the worst times.

"You know we're gonna find her," Bucky said, conviction strong in his tone. "You found me. Twice." His grin flashed for a moment before fading. "It's just going to take longer than we were hoping."

Steve sighed heavily and dragged a hand over his face. "I know. Maybe everyone's right. Maybe I'll take a few hours off this afternoon. Think you can help me relax," he asked the brunette.

The rakish smile Bucky sported said he could think of a multitude of ways. "I'm sure I can figure it out."

Of course, that was when the alarm sounded.


	19. Chapter 19

Everything was hazy. It was like swimming underwater in a muddy river. No way to see what was in front, but still able to feel the way you were headed from the pull of the current.

Somewhere in her mind she knew she was drugged. She knew that wasn't right. She had somewhere to be, something to do. But she couldn't quite hold onto the details of it all.

Time was funny. In a trippy Alice in Wonderland way. It stretched like taffy and crawled like molasses. Then sped by like a burning star, never to return. She knew time was passing. It was hard to say how much though. Not like she had that pretty watch Natasha had picked out. Not like she could make her eyes focus enough to read the face of it if she did.

She was sure it had been more than a few days in the haze. They had forcibly fed her some kind of gruel. Not that she minded the taste in her current state. But really, who even knows how to make gruel in this day and age?

She floated, not resisting. It was always easier to go with the flow.

The first time she came down, it was slow. She sank back into her body, only then realizing that she hadn't been truly connected to her limbs in a while. As she surfaced, she took in the large empty room around her. It was clinical. White walls and tile. Stainless steel instruments on gleaming metal trays. It was every horror movie's cliched operating room.

She was strapped to a gurney….and wasn't that just ominous.

The fear had been distant until then. It hadn't been a drooling beast breathing heavily on the back of her neck. Now the beast made its presence known.

As her fear inched its way up the scale toward panic, she caught sight of the viewing room overlooking where she lay. Whatever they planned on doing to her there was gong to be an audience.

It was like a bad B list movie. She kept waiting for the villain who had masterminded her abduction to enter with a flourish and start spouting off about his grand plan.

No caped supervillains appeared.

Instead, half a dozen masked doctors and nurses filed in along with a several guards. It was easy to tell the difference. The medical staff wore all white, their masks of the surgical variety. The guards were done up in black combat gear with large knives and guns as accessories. (The classic goon-chic wear.) While the guards took up positions by the door and in the corners, the medical staff bustled around. They spoke to each other softly, blandly.

No one even bothered to look in her direction. It was little rude to be honest. But she couldn't formulate a witty remark to provoke them. Dread kept her silent. Not because she was beneath their notice. No. It was how she felt cut off from their humanity. She couldn't read their faces, or assess their expressions. She had always been able to read people. Even Bucky, when he had first come to the Tower, exuded more emotion than these men and women.

She felt stranded in a sea of faceless monsters.

It was the first indicator that this wasn't a cheesy movie. (As if being kidnapped in the first place hadn't been a big flashing sign that her life was scripted poorly.)

When the viewing room filled with several people in black suits, the doctors suddenly became attentive. A nurse approached, holding a needle large enough to knit with.

Finally Darcy found her voice. "Please don't," she begged, searching the woman's eyes for some sign of sympathy. There was none. Nor was there an answer to her plea.

The haze circled in on her again.

The world distorted around her. She knew somewhere in her confusion that she was hallucinating. But the visions overloaded her senses. They were powerful...and heartbreaking. She saw her parents and it was like being abandoned all over again when they shunned her. She saw Aunt Rhonda and her horrible little son. She watched the professor wilt away from his disease all over again. This time he faded into nothing but bones, then ash. Jane came to her, offered small comfort. Then she was gone and Darcy was facing down the giant-death-robot from New Mexico.

It was like a special episode of "This is Your Life", with all the people from her past being trotted out. (Yes, she understood that reference.) Though overall it wasn't something that would garner high ratings.

Through the illusions her mind provide, she still knew that her physical body was taking abuse. Hindered by the drugs she couldn't tell details, but they were experimenting on her. It didn't make sense. What use was she? But it was true. She could feel the pain, but it was only dull. The chaos of her mind kept it at bay.

At some point, they let her surface from the visions again. She was moved from what she had started referring to as Operating Room 1. With the capitals, if you please.

Her new accommodations were smaller. More like a prison cell. There were no windows and only one door which had a tiny window with a hatch through which they would watch her. Not like they didn't have cameras on her all the time anyway. The only furniture was a small cot with cheap white sheets and a lumpy pillow. (Not counting the nasty toilet/sink combo.)

They left her alone and in silence. Clear-headed, if only temporarily, she allowed the thought to cross her mind that maybe rescue wasn't coming. Even the Avengers were fallible. Perhaps they couldn't find her. Perhaps they had been deterred or injured or maybe some world-ending crisis was keeping them busy.

What ever the case, they weren't here. She couldn't believe, even in her darkest moments, that they had simply abandoned her. None of them would. She just worried what state she would be in by the time they finally arrived.

Hours passed in silence. Darcy almost wished for the drugs again. At least then she'd have some entertainment.

Finally the door opened. She thought they were only bringing her food. Had she only known that that opening door would signal a whole new phase of tortures she would have been more concerned.

The pitcher of water that accompanied her funky grey gruel was refreshing. She drank and drank until she felt she might be able to wash whatever remained of the drugs right out of her system. It wasn't until she was almost to the bottom that she began to feel the burning in her throat. Her body revolted attempting to expel the water that now sat like acid in her stomach. She tried to crawl to the toilet but her body convulsed and she never made it that far.

It was only the beginning.

They kept her in complete darkness for what seemed an eternity. It was stifling and maddening. She tried to endure it, but eventually she felt her way to the corner where instinct told her she was safer. She curled into a ball, begging the universe for relief. It never came.

Then they kept her awake for days on end, until she she dissolved into hysterical laughter and had to be sedated to stop.

Eventually the nurse with the giant needle reappeared. With her came the visions. This time Darcy was assaulted with voices as well. She honestly couldn't say if they were in her head or some new form of torture. All she knew is that they preyed on her insecurities with frightening accuracy. "_What use are you? You pathetic waste. You have no powers, no strength, no great intelligence. No wonder they threw you away. No one is ever coming for you_."

She faded in and out. Sometimes without warning. Then there came a time when she woke with a burning between her legs and she feared that maybe they had molested her while she was unconscious.

It was the final straw.

She shut down. Her mind closed her off. To protect her. But she knew it was too late, she was broken.

After that, it all became much easier. She retreated into her visions. They were her comfort. She needed them to retain what little sanity she had left.

Each of the Avengers visited her in her hallucinations. Their big personalities protecting her from reality. Thor came with lightning and the smell of poptarts and epic ballads recited in a deep voice. Natasha came with grace and vodka that never seemed to taste quite right. Brash music and sexual innuendos heralded Tony, the king of the Tower. (She liked when he showed up, as he mocked her kidnappers' equipment - all double entendres implied.)

Barton should have made her laugh or driven her crazy. Instead he made her want to cry when he looked at her, his eyes filled with sympathetic understanding. He acted as her wingless guardian angel, rarely speaking, perching in corners or on the end of her bed watching while they injected her with some new concoction.

Bruce brought quiet contemplation and soul-searching discussions. She knew in part of mind that she was only talking to herself, but the answers she found always seemed to make more sense when said in his calm voice.

"I miss you," she'd told him one day, as he watched him study the heart monitor and IV lines she was hooked too. They had strapped her down again from the latest round of injections.

The good doctor had given her that understated sassy look over the top of his glasses. "I'm sure you do, but I know who you miss more."

She tried to pretend she didn't know exactly what he was talking about. "You mean Natasha? Eh, I think its about even. By the way, what's going on between you two?" She had long ago relegated her filter to the recycling bin. It was funny to see him blush even in her imagination.

"No," he said patiently, though his cheeks had pinkened. "I mean Rogers and Barnes."

"Well, duh. I mean I like you, big guy. Honestly. But those two are….well you've seen them. Do I really need to describe it?"

He chuckled at that. "No. I get it." He paused. "So you think it's only about sex?"

Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "No." She didn't want to say anything more out loud. She knew someone was always listening.

Bruce smiled at her fondly. "When you're ready, Darcy, they'll be happy to hear it." She knew he wasn't referring to the unseen watchers.

Her two super soldiers came to visit as well. Though they only ever appeared together. Here there were no consequences so she let all those random thoughts she'd ever had about them to pour out of her mouth. She teased them that they were like Peter Pan and his wayward shadow. One dark, one light. A dynamic duo.

One day Rogers appeared without Bucky. "Hiya Captain," she said with a weak smile. They had amped up her dosage recently and it left her a bit feeble.

Steve was frowning at her, but she paid no mind. He often frowned at her. "I thought I told you to call me, Steve," he chided.

She waved that away with a flick of her hand. The blonde turned away from her, his face tight with concentration. His eyes locked on the door, so she looked too. "Am I boring you Captain?"

"I hear something," he told her. Suddenly she realized the muffled noises she had been ignoring were fighting in the hall. Gun fire rang out clearly.

The door slammed open and there stood Bucky, a rifle in one hand. He looked better than any other visions she had of him, his hair pulled up into a ponytail and face clean shaven. She gave a whistle of appreciation. "Your shadow has returned Captain. He's looking pretty good," she commented and she glanced at Steve for his reaction.

Bucky's brow creased in confusion. His eyes slid over her assesingly, then tracked to where she was looking.

Darcy kept going, unconcerned with Bucky's appearance. She may have been hallucinating but she could see where this was going. She was envisioning her rescue. It had never been the Soldier before. Usually it was Thor. Sometimes Natasha. One memorable time it had been Jane and Clint together. That had been disastrous.

"Please tell me you don't have Jane with you. All she did last time was shoot Barton in the leg. I mean, who decided it was good idea to give her a gun? It was entertaining but I really don't think you'd handle being shot by friendly fire as calmly as Clint did. And I really don't want to have you breaking her neck."

Bucky stared at her blankly, so she turned her attention back to Steve. "You know I totally dug you from day one Captain, but the Soldier here is yummy too. Definitely lickable." She threw a wink to the Winter Soldier.

Bucky said nothing. She wasn't expecting him to. Even in visions, he had never spoken before. This time, however, he put a finger to his ear and his smoky voice filled the stale air. "Target located. Southeast corner level 27. No hostiles at present." There was a pause while he studied her with what she thought to be pity. She had seen that a lot in her hallucinations too. "Cap, you should send Thor down here too."

"Soldier, you're confusing me. Rogers is right there," she waved her hand to the now empty corner. "Or not."

Barnes didn't answer her. Instead he was talking to someone on the comm line again. "Have Hawkeye do cleanup instead. Thor needs to be down here. She's delusional and I don't think she can walk. I need someone to carry her while I cover."

"Hey! I can walk," she protested. As she sat up and tried to swing her legs over the side of the cot; she found it more difficult than she had imagined. How long had it been since she had been unrestrained? Or mobile? "Maybe not," she muttered. "Still its not nice to point out a lady's flaws, Soldier," said told him with a pout.

He moved closer to her then in that silent way of his. Having all his attention on her was still a little daunting, even in her imagination, but this was her vision and so far it was going well. There had been others that hadn't been as pleasant. None of those nightmares had included the Avengers thus far and she was hoping to continue that streak.

"I'll make it up to you, doll," Bucky offered, his face brightening with that small smile she found so charming. "As long as you let me give you a hand. Deal?"

How could she refute that? "Deal, Soldier. Can't wait to see how you're going to make it up to me." Sitting on the edge of the cot, she smiled. It was nice to finally be having a conversation with him.

When he reached forward and took the hand she had left laying on the cot, she startled. Her eyes widened. Meeting his assessing gaze, she swallowed. "This is real." It was a statement that felt strange on her tongue but Bucky treated it like a question.

"Yes, doll. Its real." He wrapped his fingers more securely around her hand, anchoring her, while he set his gun on cot beside her. "Thor will be here soon. Hold it together for me alright?"

This was real. They were here. She could hear the chatter from his earpiece as he leaned closer to place a hand under to back and kept her from falling backward when she swayed.

Tears burned in her eyes and throat. Please don't let this be another dream, she begged the universe. Please.

Barnes could see the imminent tears forming. He put his arms around her pulled her into his shoulder. "Its alright, doll. We've got you."

She could hear a thundering crash from somewhere down the hall. "Thor," he assured her.

Abruptly she found herself gripping him tight. Her hands having developed a mind of their own. Her fingers dug into the fabric of his uniform looking for purchase. If she could hold on hard enough maybe this vision wouldn't fade. She could ensure it was real.

Barnes tighten his grip on her recognizing her desperation. "I won't let go. Breathe for me, doll. Deep breath."

She thought she heard Thor's voice then. She knew she heard Barnes continuing to demand she breathe. But she couldn't obey. The world was going dark again. The drugs coming back to claim her. Mostly she hadn't minded that she could lose consciousness so abruptly. Now she feared it.

If she closed her eyes this vision might crumble, taking what little hope she still had. She tried to speak, to tell him not to go, but the darkness was too fast and it swallowed her whole.

"Target located. Southeast corner level 27. No hostiles at present."

Bucky's voice cut across the comm, interrupting Barton's assessment of the automatic weapon fire that was keeping Natasha pinned down. Steve's step stuttered and he almost missed catching the returning shield. His fingers just barely managed to get a grip on the smooth surface.

"Cap, you should send Thor down here too." Though Bucky's voice was steady, Steve felt a chill of apprehension. There was no telling what condition he had found Darcy in.

"Thor's handling clean up. I'll come," he said as he bashed another Hydra lackey in the head. The dent in the man's helmet meant he wouldn't be rejoining the battle. Steve hadn't been tempering his strength for this foray. The enemy deserved whatever they got.

Natasha sounded a bit out of breath over the line when she countered. "No. Send Barton. We need you up here."

"Have Hawkeye do cleanup instead. Thor needs to be down here," Bucky insisted. "She's delusional and I don't think she can walk. I need someone to carry her while I cover."

The line went silent for a moment. Each of them absorbing the news. Steve paused on the stairwell he was climbing.

"I shall go, Captain," Thor finally responded, his rage coated in formality. A crash of lightning was heard as Thor changed directions.

"Do it," Steve said shortly in agreement. The sound of gunfire and explosions suddenly seemed muted. His focus was on the comm line that Bucky had left open even as he kicked in the door to the third floor. Bullets met his tactful entrance. Little lumps of metal fell to the floor after impacting his shield, but it didn't slow him down a beat.

"I'll make it up to you, doll," he heard Bucky say. "As long as you let me give you a hand. Deal?"

The crush of metal beneath his hand as he crumpled a goon's gun in his fist didn't drown out her response. "This is real."

Her voice tore him up inside. It felt like the pin being pulled from a grenade. His fist snapped out and broke the man's cheek bone while rendering him unconscious. Taking two steps back he ran for the window. Holding his shield out first, he burst through the glass and fell two stories down through the air. His landing was solid but he didn't pause. He was in the midst of the men who had been holding Natasha at bay. His presence pulled their concentration off the assassin. He caught a flash of her red hair as he grabbed the nearest enemies' arm and slammed him into two others.

Bones crunched, blood sprayed, pain ran across his thigh, but he hardly noticed as he fought with single-minded purpose. Darcy was alive. It wasn't too late.

He could hear Natasha saying his name. Someone else was calling in his earpiece. A delicate hand on his arm had him freezing. His eyes finally focused on Natasha's face. The enemy were all unconscious or dead around him.

"Cap? Can you hear me? Steve," Tony called. He could hear the whine of Tony's repulsors as he headed their way out of concern.

"I'm good," he finally responded to keep Stark on task. "Satus?"

"Thor and I are coming out," Bucky called first, knowing that was the only status Steve really cared about. "Darcy's unconscious but her breathing seems normal. No hostiles so far."

"That's cause everyone came out back for a party," Barton informed them. "Stark, If you're done playing tag with those unmanned cannons I could use a hand."

"They weren't really cannons," Tony said conversationally. "Just really really big guns. Regardless, I'm on my way Legolas."

Steve knew their banter was an outlet for relief, but he couldn't join in.

"Are you alright," Natasha asked, making sure to keep it private. He only nodded. "I'm going to help Clint. You should go meet them."

He didn't need further prompting.

As he made his way around the building, he gave Maria the all clear to set the jet down. Bruce was on board and acting as their medical for this. When they had finally figured out where Darcy had been held, they had all agreed it was better for the Hulk to sit it out. No one wanted Darcy to be accidently smashed in a rescue attempt.

He went to the door that Bucky would be bringing her out of. Kicking aside a couple of cooling bodies with perfect holes in the center their foreheads, courtesy of the Winter Soldier, he held it open.

Standing in the doorway, he saw them the minute the elevator door opened. Thor came out first, his face troubled, but he gave a nod as he pushed past.

As he exited, Steve finally caught sight of Bucky. Darcy was curled against his chest, her fingers twisted in his shirt. His gaze locked on her pale face. She was alive. Raising his eyes, the two men shared a dark look. Hydra had not yet paid in full for this sin.

Bruce called from the back of the jet that was parked mere feet away, directing them to bring Darcy in. While Bucky settled into a seat, he allowed Banner to check over the sleeping woman in his arms, but he refused to relinquish her.

Steve said nothing. His mind was full of Darcy.

He knew she should hate him. He had done nothing but ruin what ever chance he'd had with her. Maybe it was the Brooklyn scraper in his blood, or those old memories of being the underdog, that drove his next thoughts. Whatever it was, he knew that he couldn't walk away from her now. He would beg her forgiveness, plead for her to give him one last chance. If she said she wanted nothing to do with him he would not force it, no matter what Bucky said about fighting for a woman. He had faith in Darcy's natural inclination to be understanding. However, until he secured a pardon from her lips, his reasons for keeping his distance were still valid.

The jet lifted into the sky with everyone piled inside, except Tony, who was already zipping back to the Tower.

He heard Thor speaking to Jane on his seldom used phone. "Indeed, we have her. We are bringing her home."


	20. Chapter 20

Darcy awoke to the beeping of a heart monitor. It was a noise she had heard often in her captivity. Her eyes remained firmly shut, trying to hold on to the feeling of being in Bucky's arms. It had seemed so real, she lamented.

Then came the voices.

"You could have let Thor carry her. Your arm is still injured." Steve. His voice brushed across her like fresh air.

"She was clinging to me like a burr. I didn't want to waste time peeling her off." Bucky. The sound of his voice meant that maybe the rescue hadn't been illusion.

"Aye, it was rightly done Captain." Thor. No mistaking his regal bearing. "I am thankful to you all for helping to return my lightning sister. Especially after all that has happened."

Darcy became aware of other things. There was a pressure on her left arm. A small hand holding on to her tightly, and the sound of sniffling. Jane.

"Do we know what they did to her," Natasha asked from her right.

Even in her hazy state Darcy could feel the anger in the room ratchet up at the question. The air thickened. Bruce broke the tense silence. "We don't know everything yet, but I can tell you there were no major injuries. Though there is evidence that there may have been at some point. Dehydration and malnutrition may be a problem. Worst of it is they pumped her full of a viscous chemical cocktail. We're not done analyzing the blood sample, but the preliminary report shows a shocking amount of drugs. I'm not sure how they kept her from overdosing honestly. Withdrawal will be hell. What's most worrying are several compounds that I can't even begin to guess at. And..." A deep unsteady breath. "I can't be in here right now." His retreating footsteps signaled his departure.

"I'll check on him," Natasha offered. There was a small scrape of a chair being pushed back as she stood to follow.

Silence again.

Darcy found herself slipping back toward unconsciousness. She didn't fight it. She couldn't face this yet. If this was real... If she opened her eyes... she would have to deal with what they had done to her. She wasn't ready. Not yet.

Hands on her arms stirred her out of her sleep, but she wasn't quite able to surface all the way. The touch was clinical but caring. For a moment she struggled, but a calm voice assured her that she was safe. Memory of the Avengers' voices rose in her mind and kept her from trying to fight further.

A cool cloth wiped at her forehead. Another pair of hands pulled back the blankets covering her to tug at her clothing.

Darcy floated in that dim place between sleep and consciousness while the hands worked. Eventually they retreated and Darcy fell back into deep slumber.

The hands returned several times. They were friendly, so she never rose to true wakefulness as she allowed them to manipulate her.

The second time Darcy came up to full consciousness she could tell it was daytime. Even behind her eyelids she could feel the sun. It was blessed, a balm to her soul.

There were voices this time too. Tony and Bruce were having a muted argument.

"You're the one who's been playing around with genes," Tony said testily. "How hard can it be to undo it?"

Bruce's tone was edging on anger, never a good thing to hear from the scientist. "Tony, people aren't like machines. I can't just find the right part and replace it. We don't know what they did to her. And even if we did know that doesn't mean we can fix it. You -" There was a sharp inhale.

A voice she was becoming familiar with filled the abrupt silence. "She's awake."

No use in denying it, she thought.

Prying open eyes that felt far heavier than they should, she saw why Bruce's voice had cut off so suddenly. Bucky was standing between Tony and Bruce his metal hand pressed across Bruce's mouth. Yet Barnes showed no fear. The smile that curled her lips was a little dim by her usual standards but it was still a smile. "You're not too bright, Soldier." Even to her own ears, her voice sounded strange. Weak and hoarse. How long had she been out?

"I'm in good company," he said. That smirk she knew well appearing as he removed his hand from Bruce.

A glass of water with a straw materialized in front of her. Jane held it tightly. Her eyes were red-rimmed, faded tear tracks adorned her cheeks. Darcy sipped the water, while fresh tears squeezed from Jane's eyes. "Thank god, Darcy. We've all been so worried. And I - I was so afraid. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't believe you might be dead. I wouldn't have known what to do with myself."

"You would have been training a new lab monkey," she attempted to tease. As soon as the words left her mouth Darcy felt a whip of shame. Jane's hiss of anger was just icing on the cake.

"Don't you dare," Jane said in a low dangerous voice Darcy had never heard the astrophysicist use before. "Don't even dare. You know that I- that we all- have been devastated to lose you."

Darcy lowered her eyes. Her voice was small when she finally replied. "I'm sorry. I'm just...there's too much."

Jane took her statement to mean there were too many people crowding around. She leveled a glared at the gathered men until they began to shift. Tony, Bruce, even Clint (who had been quietly perched on a cabinet in the corner) moved toward the exit.

Bucky was the last to take the hint. He stood stubbornly by the end of the bed until Sam popped up in the doorway, and motioned for him. Grudgingly, he gave ground, glancing back at her several times. As Sam finally pulled the door closed, Darcy spotted the Soldier taking up a guard position to the the left of the threshold.

Alone with Jane, Darcy kept her eyes down. She wasn't sure she could do this. She could be flippant and sane and normal when there had been a crowd. But with only Jane, the woman who was her mentor and friend, she didn't know what would come pouring out. Even if she had admitted to herself in that cell that she was broken, she didn't know if she could admit the same in the light of day.

"I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly, trying in vain to keep back the tears that threatened.

Jane took Darcy's hand in both of hers gripping it tightly. "Shh, shh. It's alright. I forgive you. I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to snap at you."

"This is real, right," Darcy asked in that same small pathetic voice that she knew belonged to her, the tears she had been holding back finally falling.

"Oh, Darcy, yes," Jane nearly sobbed and she crawled half onto the bed and wrapped her arms around the shaking younger woman. Trying to give comfort to them both. "It's real. I promise you it's real. You're safe."

The tremors rocking her body wouldn't stop. She could hardly catch her breath from the sobs wracking her chest. She wanted to cover her face and hide from everything, but Jane held on tight, whispering assurances to her. The floodgates were open now and Darcy could hold nothing back.

A sudden churning in her stomach had her shoving at Jane to get her out of the way before throwing her head over the other side of the bed and vomiting. She heaved again and again until dry heaves were ripping at her insides. There hadn't been that much in her stomach to begin with. Finally it ended and she was left gasping for breath, still hanging onto the bed-rail.

Slowly she became aware of her surroundings again. Someone had shoved a bucket under her after the first expulsion so there was only a small amount of mess on the floor, but that wasn't what caught her eye. There were a pair of black boots in her view. Familiar black boots. Bucky. The relief that flooded her eclipsed everything else.

She could feel him now. He was holding her hair away from her face and his metal hand was a cool relief on the back of her neck. She could hear Jane explaining what had happened to Bruce. Darcy closed her eyes and bit back a groan. She couldn't take much more of this humiliation. For some reason, she felt none of it with Barnes. Not after the way she had clung to him during her rescue. With everyone else it hurt her to have them see her like this. Pathetic. Weak. "Don't let go," she whispered, knowing he would hear her no matter how softly she spoke. His only answer was a reassuring squeeze to her neck.

She stayed bent over, hiding, while a young man in a pair of dark brown scrubs cleaned up the mess she had made. Eventually a twinge in her back told her she needed to move. She sat up slightly and Bucky moved with her, blocking her from the rest of the room. The heat from his body helped to sooth the chaos in her. None of her illusions had been warm. Meeting his gaze she tried to give him a smile but she could see that it was a weak effort by the reflection in his eyes so she let it drop. What was the point anyway.

"Tell me what you need, doll," he said, his voice as quiet as hers had been earlier.

"I want them to leave." Darcy knew it was selfish. Jane was only worried about her, the same as Bruce, but she couldn't face either of them. They would ask questions, and Darcy couldn't answer questions right now.

Another squeeze on her neck told her Bucky would handle things. For some reason she trusted him implicitly, just like Steve. He pulled her toward him so that her face was buried in his chest. She was grateful as she couldn't witness the reactions to his words. "She needs a minute. Everyone clear out," his voice carried authority.

Darcy heard Jane sputter for a moment but someone (possibly Sam) called to her and got her out of the room. When the door shut firmly, Bucky allowed her to bring her head up. "Better?" She nodded.

Darcy was out of her depth. She didn't know what move to make. She didn't want to answer questions and she didn't want to ask them. But Barnes was...a safe harbor. For now she wouldn't analyze why. Instead, she let him hold her, his natural hand massaging her scalp gently. It was soothing, and after a few minutes Darcy felt her head fall forward against his chest again. He stepped in as close and possible and supported her weight but did nothing more.

Darcy dozed, though she wasn't really sure how long. When she roused, Bucky was still holding her with no sign of fatigue, though he had shifted them slightly and was sitting behind her on the bed. Her head lay on his chest still, and more of his body pressed against her. It was no wonder she had slept through the movement as the warmth of his body relaxed her and melted her anxiety.

When he spoke, she realized the reason she had woken was because someone new had entered. "Everything wrapped up," Barnes queried quietly, his hand pausing its movements then slowly migrating to the back of her neck.

"For now." Rogers' hushed voice was unmistakable. "Tony got as much information as he could from the computers, but he said most of it was corrupted. Natasha provided enough explosives to level Manhattan. There's nothing left of the facility but dust and a crater." There was grim satisfaction in his tone. "Sam told me what happened here. He's still outside but he had Thor take Jane upstairs to rest. How is she holding up?"

She felt Bucky give a shrug. "I don't know, punk. I couldn't leave her."

Steve came closer. "Of course not, Buck. We've got her back. If she feels safe with you, then you're the best thing for her."

There was silence. She felt Bucky's hand squeeze once gently at her neck, then his voice. "She needs you too, Steve."

"I know, but this was my fault."

A small growl of frustration escaped, while his fingers slid back into her hair. "I'm not having this argument again. She needs us both. She wouldn't be here now if it weren't for you. Do you really have so little faith that you think she'll blame you for anything they did?"

"She should! I drove her away," Steve snapped. He gave a regretful sigh. "Lets not do this right now." Darcy felt the slight vibration as Steve patted Bucky on the shoulder. "You've been holding her for while. Do you need a break?"

"No, I'm good." A thoughtful pause. "Actually I could use a second, but I don't want to disturb her. Mind taking her for a minute," he asked.

"Of course, jerk." There was the sound of fabric on fabric as Bucky shifted her gently and Steve slid in from the other side.

Before Bucky walked away, he placed Steve's hand on her hair and demonstrated the slow massage he had been performing. The Captain seemed hesitant at first but his large hand soothed her the same as the Soldier.

She heard water running and the opening of the bathroom door.

Bucky rejoined them, taking a seat in a chair beside the bed. He spoke softly with Steve, their voices a reassuring cadence in the background though she was no longer listening to the words.

Darcy allowed herself to relax bank into a full sleep, glad that Bucky hadn't brought Steve's attention to her wakefulness. She was too tired now to deal with his foolishness.

Steve wasn't sure what time it was when the nurse came to shoo him and Buck out of Darcy's room, but it seemed to be early afternoon by the light streaming through the row of windows. They had closed the curtains and turned off the lights to help Darcy sleep though Bucky made sure to leave a little light from the bathroom to keep her from being disoriented if she woke alone.

As they stepped into the hall, they found Clint waiting for them. His grim expression filled Steve with foreboding.

"Coulson called," was all Clint said before turning and heading for the stairs.

Steve and Bucky shared a determined look. After everything that had happened in the last few months, all of them were exhausted and emotions were still running high. However, no matter what, they were prepared to tackle any problems that had arisen for Darcy. She would not be facing this alone.

In order to determine Hydra's ultimate goal, Clint had asked Phil if he could investigate what Hydra had been planning to do with the plucky lab assistant. Tony had gone on his own information hunt as well, but he had been having a hard time retrieving anything from the corrupted files.

They followed Barton into the stairwell. The only sound was the echoing of their footsteps as they went down two levels to Bruce's lab.

Bruce and Tony were already there, their backs to the door. Their focus centered on a large holographic screen displaying various charts and strings of chemical formulas Steve didn't understand. Both men turned to greet them with anger blazing in their eyes.

"I was finally able to put some of the data back together," Tony informed them.

"And I identified another portion of those compounds in Darcy's blood," Bruce said, his voice tight. Steve could see the rage riding the scientist hard though he remained in control.

"None of this sounds like good news," Bucky observed, as he crossed his arms across his chest.

Barton shook his head. "If it follows with what Coulson told me, it's not."

Steve motioned to Banner. "You first, doctor." If Banner's control was going to slip, he wanted to hear what the man had to say beforehand.

"I explained before that they gave her several chemical compounds I could not identify. The one I was able to identify was a potent gene therapy drug. They made her DNA malleable."

"They already know this," Tony interrupted.

Bruce ignored him. "What we didn't know was how the other chemicals would react in combination with that. I finally identified another of the compounds. It's a derivative of Erskine's formula."

"The super serum stuff in these two," Barton asked, with a nod to Steve and Bucky.

"The same," Bruce agreed. "It must not have been successful as she doesn't appear to have any physical changes like either of you."

"So far," Tony added.

Bruce nodded in agreement. "She wasn't exposed to any gamma radiation either so if they were attempting to recreate Hulk, they failed."

"As far as we can tell," Tony said.

Steve only had one question. "Why? Why her?"

"I might have an answer," Barton offered stepping forward. "Coulson's been listening to a few hacked communication lines for Hydra. There was some chatter about a project they were running not being ready for the next phase. Same day we rescued Lewis. He did some digging. The basics are to create a perfect undercover agent. Someone no one would suspect due to the fact that they wouldn't even be aware they were working for Hydra. He doesn't have details about how it works but -"

"But Agent figures it's about Lewis," Tony finished.

"It's a possibility," Clint said with a sharp shrug. "Logically, she would be the easiest target to snatch, the easiest to manipulate, and she is connected to all of us. No way to know for sure though until we get more intel."

Stark tossed up another monitor in between them. "I've got some," he informed them. "I was able to put some of the data back together from the facility Steve demolished."

A video appeared. It was grainy and pixelated in places, but the voice was clear. The scene showed Darcy pacing in a small cell, gesturing with her hands as she spoke to the air. "_The subject is still resisting genetic modifications. Her body has rejected all changes without explanation. We have begun psychological modifications, but the subject has had unexpected reactions. She is exhibiting signs of hallucinations. It has been determined that the current project should be abandoned. Instead-"_ The video cut off and another snippet began. The same voice played, but the scene now showed an unconscious Darcy strapped to a medical table. Several men and women bustled around her, removing electrodes and disconnecting various monitoring equipment. A nurse was undoing her legs from stirrups, the kind used during a pelvic exam. _"-for now. Examinations show that the subject is adjusting well to the new modifications. We believe that if we are able to complete the necessary programming the subject will be ready for phase 3."_

The video ended and the screen dissipated with a small pop.

"So Lewis is a Hydra time-bomb," Barton said harshly.

"I don't think so, birdbrain," Tony countered. "Sounds like they never got what they wanted to work. If Coulson heard them say the project wasn't ready, it means they never got to program her."

"But we don't know for sure," Steve felt compelled to add.

No one replied to that. Even Tony, who was angrily swiping through various monitors filled with the stolen Hydra files, had nothing to say.

Steve's heart was aching all over again. He had hoped the worst was over. Darcy was home, she should never have to deal with Hydra again. Now they had invaded here. "Someone needs to be with her or nearby all the time. Jarvis can monitor her as well. Same as when Bucky first came." He looked to Clint. "Tell Coulson to keep digging. And, Bruce, we need to know what those other drugs did."

There were agreements all around.

"When do we tell her," Bruce asked.

"We can't," Bucky responded. "Not yet. She isn't asking questions. Not about anything. She doesn't want to know. Until she asks, we don't say anything."

Though the others agreed, Steve didn't feel comfortable with this part of the plan. Bucky could immediately see his discomfort. The brunette knew the plan wouldn't sit well, especially after the way they had agreed to be more upfront with the woman they wanted to call theirs. He raised a brow in a way that said they would discuss it later. Steve responded with a small nod.

There was nothing else to say, and the gathered men began to disperse. Bruce turned back to his microscopes and blood samples. Tony snapped the screens he had been using closed and strode out the door after Barton who had gone to make the call to Coulson. Bucky waited for Steve to begin walking out before he followed. Without discussion they headed back to their apartment. It was time to have another talk.

When Darcy woke next, the sun was hanging low in the sky and she found herself blessedly alone. She needed a moment to think in peace, without the distractions of her friends. Maybe it was strange but she could recall exactly how she felt the day she had been taken. All that hope and excitement. She wanted to hold on to that. It might have been cowardly, but she wanted to remember that day and forget everything that had happened in between (her old ostrich defense to the rescue). She wanted to move forward and not look back.

It suddenly occurred to her that she didn't even know how much time had passed. If Bucky was speaking and interacting so well with everyone, it must have been a significant bit. More than the few weeks she thought it had been. This was not a question that she wanted to ask Barnes or Jane, or any of the Avengers really. There was only one person she felt comfortable asking.

"Jarvis," she called hesitantly.

"It is good to have you home, Darcy," he responded immediately, sounding genuinely pleased.

She sighed a breath of relief that he answered. She had always been able to depend on Jarvis. "Its good to be home. I missed you, buddy. Can you...Can you answer a question for me?"

"Of course," was his quick response.

"How long was I -" She couldn't finish the sentence. It sat heavy and immovable on her tongue.

Jarvis, bless his base code, understood the question. "You were taken on August 27th. You were returned to the Tower on April 4th. Today's date is April 8th."

She couldn't breathe. Her vision started to go grey around the edges and she belatedly sucked in a breath. Over seven months. They had her for over seven months. Seven months of her life gone, eaten up by those monsters. Panic flared.

"Darcy your vitals signs are becoming erratic. I will be forced to alert the nursing staff."

"No! No. I'm fine," she hastened to assure him. She forced herself to take a deep breath. "I - Barnes?"

"He is currently in his suite with Captain Rogers. Shall I contact him for you?"

"Yes." Two seconds passed. "Wait, Jarvis. Don't call him." She had changed her mind. They didn't need to deal with this, and she wasn't sure she was ready to face them. There was so much she had to say to them, but she hadn't exactly prepared yet.

Jarvis sounded apologetic as he relayed that it was too late. Both Bucky and Steve were on their way. She could feel the panic rising. An itch across her skin. She wanted to run. She peeled back the sheets and found a pair of white scrubs on her legs. Trying to get those legs over the side of the bed was not an easy task. She had only managed to inch forward on the bed when both super soldiers appeared on the threshold.

They stepped in and Bucky took a long assessing look at her before closing the door quietly.

Immediately Darcy knew what a mistake this was. She shouldn't have called them at all. She should have had the nurses turn them away. They didn't need to deal with her panic attack. She knew that was what it was. She might not personally have had anything her life that warranted panic attacks before, but she'd witnessed others go through it. Now she had her own reason. Isn't that just peachy, she thought to herself.

Steve came forward first. His beautiful face troubled on her behalf. "I know you called for Bucky, not me, but I was worried. If you want me to go I will."

"No. It's okay. I - I'm not even sure why I called _him_."

The Soldier stepped up beside the Captain. Shoulder to shoulder they made quite the sight. Regret momentarily splashed up against the panic in her. Why had she been so unsure before? Why had she not taken a chance with them? These men were perfect. She should never have dragged her feet.

"We're here for whatever you need," Bucky told her.

"I..." Her voice trailed off. "When..." she tried again. "Jarvis," she called a little desperately.

Of course, her digital buddy provided what she needed. "Ms. Lewis had inquired about the length of her captivity. When I informed her of the answer, she began to show signs of distress."

"So you called Bucky." That was from Rogers though she couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement.

Unable to respond when words had always been her defense in awkward situations, she ducked her head. Immediately Bucky was there, crouched down so she was forced to look into his face though hers was pointed to the floor. "Tell me what you need, doll." His words spurred her forward. She lunged for him, gripping his shirt with all her might. This was real. This was an anchor.

His arms came up to steady her before she fell from the bed.

Into the awkward silence, Rogers spoke softly. "I'll be outside if you need me, Buck."

Without looking at him, Barnes gave a quiet reply. "Thanks, Stevie." After the door closed, Barnes smiled at her kindly. "Just you and me, doll. No one will get past Steve." He placed one hand over her clenched fists that were tangled in his shirt. "I'll stay as long as you need me."

The panic was still coming, building in waves. It was getting hard to take a full breathe. All of it was too much. The anxiety wouldn't release her from its jaw. The sharp teeth piercing her calm.

Couldn't they pretend that she had never been gone? That none this had ever happened?

"Hold me," she asked, as a tear ran unchecked down her cheek. Bucky said nothing, simply lifted her effortlessly and brought her down onto his lap on the floor careful of the IV lines still in her arms. She curled into him as if she hoped to disappear into his skin. As if she could find that confidence that used to come so easily if she burrowed deep enough against his chest.

Wrapping both arms around her, Bucky rocked her gently, riding out the storm without complaint

After some time, Darcy felt she could actually breathe again and she became aware of a low sound. The Soldier was humming. He must have felt her stillness for the humming ended. "I used to sing that back when Steve was still a little guy. I don't remember the words now or what it's called. But I remember the tune. I remember singing to him while I held him just like this when he was too sick to do anything but lay in bed. Steve probably never told you about those days. I think he doesn't like to remember being so physically weak. He never understood that I didn't care about the strength of his body. Even after becoming Captain America, I still didn't care about his body. Though I'll admit to you, doll, he's pretty easy on the eyes now."

Darcy snorted out a laugh before she even realized it was coming. Bucky smiled down at her as she peeked out at him from where her face had been buried in his shirt. "There you are, beautiful."

She didn't respond with her usual sarcasm to the endearment. Her soul needed to hear words of kindness like that. However, she couldn't help voicing a certain observation. "You're quite a talker once someone gets you going."

For a moment his eyes darkened, Darcy feared that she had triggered some sadness from his past. Then he smiled, those baby blues brightening again. "When you're feeling better you should ask Steve about my first words to someone other than him and Sam. I promise its a good story."

"I'll definitely look into it, Soldier," she promised.

Moving slowly, he raised his metal hand to her face to brush back a few stray hairs. "Why do you call me that now?"

"I've always called you that...in my head at least." An embarrassed smile stretched her lips. "It suits you though. The Captain and the Soldier. Partners in crime."

Barnes gave another chuckle. "I guess it does suit us. Especially since he was usually the one leading us into trouble."

They fell into silence. It wasn't the kind of silence that bothered her, but her mind was finally past the panic and a dozen thoughts about what to do now were already crowding her mind. She still wanted to move forward. Screw Hydra. Fuck them! The more she wallowed in what had been done, the more they won. She wouldn't let them win. She was going to get her boys and be happy. It would be the biggest slap in the face to Hydra that she could manage.

She wasn't naive. She knew it wouldn't be that simple to pick up the pieces, but she was sure as hell going to try.

There was one thing that needed addressed before all others. Steve needed to know what had been on her mind. She knew he was blaming himself thanks to the earlier conversation she'd overheard between the boys. The one that Bucky (the sneaky bastard) had made sure she heard.

"Will you do something for me," she asked Bucky, her voice nearly as strong and confident as before the kidnapping (even if the rest of her didn't quite feel that way).

A finger under her chin brought her gaze to his. "Anything, beautiful."

She worked hard to keep from blushing at his intense sincere gaze. They were both like that. How had she ever doubted their interest? "Will you ask Steve to come in?"

The smile he gave her was soft, the edges trimmed with sly knowledge. "Of course. Do you want me to put you back on the bed?"

"No." She didn't want to be in a hospital bed for this. Looking around she spotted a comfortable looking chair in the corner. "The chair," she indicated with a tilt of her chin.

He lifted her easily and set her on the edge of the bed to drag the required chair closer. Then he transferred her gently, carefully arranging the IV lines. "Good?"

She nodded and adjusted the top of the scrubs she was in. The outfit wasn't exactly what she had been planning on wearing when having this conversation but it would have to do.

He went to the door and spoke quietly with Steve for a moment. She couldn't hear what was said, but after only a moment Steve came striding in. Bucky remained by the door after he closed it, lounging against the wall.

Steve's shoulders were squared and his steps sure, but his face was subdued. She hadn't really had a chance to look at him before. The anxiety attack had overwhelmed everything else. As he stepped closer, she could see exhaustion in the bags beneath his eyes. And those eyes. He looked as if he was coming to face a firing squad. The guilt was not something she ever wanted to see in his eyes, not in this sweet earnest man.

"I have to tell you something," she began.

Steve swallowed hard and went down into a crouch to keep from towering over her. The move made her pause. "Before you say anything else, Darcy. I need to tell you something."

Unsure, she nodded to have him continue. "I am truly sorry. I never intended to hurt you. Ever. Yet it seems to be all I've done. I drove you away, right into Hydra's grasp. And I couldn't find you." Determination sat in every tense line of his body. "If you never want to see me again, I can understand that. I'll-"

Her hand slapped his cheek with an echoing crack.

Both men were unnaturally still as they watched her. She was trembling but it wasn't with panic this time. The slap had strung her palm, but the burst of anger provided enough strength that she at least got his attention. "You are an idiot." She said each word distinctly so he would be sure to understand. "You are not responsible for anything that Hydra did to me. I might be a little crazy because of them," Steve opened his mouth to protest, but she ran right over him, "but, they gave me ample time to think about you and about Bucky. Do you know what I was planning on doing that day? I was going to track you both down and jump on board with _whatever_ you wanted. Though I was hoping for a strings-attached deal." Steve's eyes widened. "Cause it seemed like you were making an offer with that kiss you gave me. Are you going to go back on that, Rogers?"

He only shook his head.

"Then put your money where your mouth is. I'm not gonna back down just because I've been out of town for a few months."

She could see Bucky out of the corner of her eyes, watching their interaction avidly. She couldn't read the guarded expression on his face though. Steve was simply staring at her, trying to put his words together.

"I won't back down either, sweetheart. I only wanted to apologize and give you options if you couldn't forgive me," he finally confessed.

She beckoned him closer with a single finger, and he came without hesitation. When he was close enough, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. The kiss started sweet and soft. She wasn't capable of much more at the moment. Then Steve moaned quietly and took control. There was a desperate edge to it, like he wasn't sure if he'd ever be allowed this again and was determined to take what he could. His hands traced over her cheeks her, her neck, her shoulders. Yet always so gentle, almost reverent. He broke away for a moment to let her catch her breath, his eyes searching hers. Hope stirred in his gaze, washing away any lingering guilt.

"You deserve so much better than me," he breathed across her lips.

She scoffed softly and laid her hand gently on the cheek she had slapped, creating space between them. "Maybe, but I kinda like you when you're not being stupid."

His wide fingers curled around her hand and held it in place as he turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. He took her other hand held them together on her lap. "You are a wonderful woman, Darcy. I swear I'll remind you everyday just how wonderful."

Now her eyes burned. Thankfully Bucky saved her from the embarrassment of further tears.

"That's enough, punk," he called teasingly. "You trying to show me up?"

Darcy laughed and beckoned him over. "Come 'ere, Soldier. I owe you one of those too."

Steve refused to be moved from his place and his grip on her hand never loosened, as Bucky came and plated and soft kiss to her upturned lips. Somehow Darcy was okay with that.

"I'd be happy to help with those reminders too," Bucky offered. She pushed him away playfully with a roll of her eyes.

Bucky chuckled as he stepped back. She caught the mischievous glint in his eyes before he spoke. "So," he began, drawing the word out. "Steve has something for you."

Steve blushed faintly. "Bucky," he said warningly.

Oh this should be good, she thought as she leaned back in her chair to support herself and watched Steve squirm.

"Steve," Bucky replied, mocking his tone.

"Don't," Steve ordered.

The Soldier shook his head. "No can do Captain. Our girl needs to know."

"What exactly do I need to know," she asked, watching the playful bickering.

"You remember how you lost your purse right?" She nodded. "Well Steve here just couldn't let a lady's purse be taken by some opportunistic thief on the streets so he-"

"Drop it, jerk," Steve demanded.

"Make me punk," Bucky replied lightly, without heat.

"I swear," Steve started but Darcy placed her hand over his mouth.

"I want to hear this story," she told him. He subsided but kept throwing looks at Barnes that promised retaliation.

"Well, Steve went to retrieve it. Of course, as soon as he gets there, he sees some kid grabbing it. The kid bolted, but our white knight chased him down easy. Kid about shit his pants when he realized Captain America had caught him stealing."

Darcy glanced down at Steve. Her hand was still covering his mouth, but his eyes were dancing with humor above it. He seemed rather pleased with himself about the whole thing.

"You have my purse," she asked him.

"It's upstairs," Bucky responded, since she still hadn't moved her hand. "But he's got something of yours with him now. Has kept it with him the whole time you were gone. Go on, punk. Give it back."

Sheepishly, Steve retrieved a small object from the back pocket of his jeans. Darcy lowered her hand from his face and held it out to accept whatever he had. Carefully, he pressed her iPod into her palm.

"You kept my iPod," she said to clarify that this was actually happening.

"Like a security blanket," Bucky added helpfully.

Steve glared at Bucky, then his bright eyes came back to hers. "Yeah," he said.

"Okay. Okay." Her hand was trembling as she pulled it out of Steve's grasp to brush her hair back from her face. "You kept my iPod," she repeated. "Geez. Alright. Just to clarify, because I might still be hallucinating, are we actually doing this thing," she asked, her free hand waving to encompass all three of them.

"If by 'thing' you mean, do we want you to be our girl? Yes," Steve said earnestly. "We won't rush you," he hurried to assure her. "We'll go at whatever pace you're comfortable with. I know what we're proposing isn't exactly conventional, but I think it would be good."

She laughed. "Good? Fucking understatement. I get to 'go steady'," she punctuated with single-handed air quotes, "with the super soldiers twins. I call that fantastic!"

Bucky snorted and placed a hand on Steve's head to ruffle his hair. "Way to suck the wind out of his sails, darlin'. I'm sure he had a whole heartfelt speech prepared to convince you."

"Aww. That's so cute. I promise I'll let you do the whole thing for me later."

Steve shook his head with exasperation. "You two are going to gang up on me aren't you?"

"You say that like its a bad thing," Darcy teased with a wink, though it lacked her usual boisterous enthusiasm. She hadn't really done much more than sit and listen but she was tiring already.

The smile that Steve gave her was broad. "I love you."

Darcy froze, the smile she sported wiping away. She hadn't been quite prepared for that. Both men watched intently for her reaction to the pronouncement.

"I didn't tell you to pressure you," Steve said, taking hold of her hand again. "I only told you because it's been on my mind for so long. It was my fault everything got muddled before. I want to be honest with you going forward."

She wasn't sure how to respond. The Captain could obviously read her discomfort as gave her an understanding smile. "Don't say anything," he instructed. "Just keep it in mind."

She nodded in assent, willing to follow his lead when her footing in this whole situation was bit shaky.

"I think you're alright too," Bucky said jokingly, to break the tension. She tore her gaze away from Steve's earnest eyes to give Bucky a grateful smile. He winked.

Suddenly, a yawn had her jaw stretching.

"You need to rest," Steve decreed as he finally straightened from the crouch he'd been holding beside her chair. "Can I take you to your bed?"

"Anytime, Captain."

He chuckled, as he slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her easily. "When you're ready for that, you'll be coming to our bed. It's bigger."

"Well then. I'll use that for my happy thought, Peter," she said. She knew they wouldn't understand the reference (as she'd only told their delusional doppelgangers about the Peter Pan correlation). But her filter had always been wonky, and they should be used to her random outbursts by now.

Once she was tucked in (literally tucked - both men were little mother hens), her recovered iPod on the bedside table, the men settled into chairs on either side of her. She looked from one to the other and back. "You don't have to stay," she told them though her heart wasn't really in it.

Bucky crossed his arms, lazily kicking one foot up on the edge of her bed. "We're not going anywhere, darlin'. Close your eyes."

She didn't argue. The soft smile on her face as she drifted into peaceful sleep steered her dreams down hopeful paths and kept the nightmares at bay.


	21. Chapter 21

Sunlight was pouring into the room when Darcy began to wake. She could feel the warmth of it blanketing her and filling her with reassurance. Before she opened her eyes a smile was lifting her lips, even though a headache was pounding at her temples.

"It'd be nice to see you wake up like that everyday," Steve commented. He was still there.

"I'm sure we could make that happen," Bucky added.

When her lids finally lifted, she found them both still sitting in their respective chairs. Though Steve now sported a sketchbook propped on his bent leg and a pencil behind his ear. Bucky had an array of weaponry spread around him which he was in the process of cleaning.

"You two look like you're having loads of fun," she observed.

"We are," Steve replied completely serious.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "You don't have to sit here and watch me," she tried to protest. She was becoming aware of how grimy she felt and she knew she had to be looking quite shitty as her hair hadn't seen a hairbrush in some time. Last night it hadn't really seemed important. Now she wanted a shower, or a bath, or at least a rinse cycle through the washing machine.

"We want to," Bucky countered. "You don't have to entertain us, doll. We'd be happy to entertain you though." He lifted his head from his work and gave her a saucy wink.

Steve set his sketchbook on a low table someone had added to the room as he snagged a glass of water for her. She curled her fingers around the chill glass and put the straw to her lips. As she sipped, she noted that the men were trying very hard to pretend that they weren't watching how much she consumed. Steve was glancing out of the corner of his eye while fiddling with the pencil case he had on the table. Bucky wasn't quite as subtle. His face was lowered slightly but his hands weren't doing anything except holding his equipment.

It was sweet that they were so concerned and attentive but she could already see how it would start to grate on her nerves if she didn't nip it in the butt now. That wasn't to say that she didn't want them to help take care of her while she recovered. (She was well aware that her recovery was only beginning….and who wouldn't want hot men with amazing smiles coaching them through.) But they were going to have to throttle it down a little or they were going to stifle her.

Normally she felt far more comfortable taking care of others than having anyone take care of her, but she supposed abduction was a pretty good reason to allow it.

She drank as much water as she could stand in order appease them. As soon as she had her fill, she shifted to sit up more fully. Immediately, Steve was there adjusting the pillow behind her and taking the glass she was trying to set on the bedside table.

"Okay. You guys are awesome. The cutest thing since they invented baby ducklings. But you need to get out," she informed them, pointing to door.

They both startled then stilled. Steve had pure confusion written on his features. Bucky seemed more thoughtful.

"Seriously," she said, kindly but firm. "Out. Now. Shoo." She waved both hands at them.

Bucky's face cleared first. Obviously, he understood her need for a minute of privacy. "Yes, ma'am," he agreed, giving a small two fingered salute before setting his equipment out of the way. "Shift it, Captain," he called when Steve didn't immediately begin to move as well.

The brunette finally resorted to hoisting Steve up by the back of his collar and dragging him bodily out the door.

The protests the blonde muttered under his breath the whole way made Darcy chuckle, as she hit the call button for the nurse. She knew her way around a hospital bed, even if this was a much nicer setting than any hospital room the professor had been forced to use.

A meticulous looking woman in a pale blue nurses uniform bustled in. Her smile was broad when she saw Darcy was awake. "Good morning, Ms. Lewis. How are you feeling?"

Darcy took a moment to evaluate, giving the question a serious answer. "A little nauseous, having some slight cramps though hell if I know what they're from, headache, and very very dirty."

The nurse blinked once. Then laughed. "Oh, you're going to be as fun as they promised." She stepped up to the bedside and began looking over the various bags that were feeding into Darcy's arms by IV. "I'm Kimberly by the way," she introduced herself though she didn't hold out a hand. "As for your symptoms, there isn't much we can do for the first few until the drugs are out of your system. Your withdrawal doesn't seem to be as bad as predicted which is something to be thankful for. That last symptom, however, I can definitely help with. Question is, do you feel strong enough to try getting to the bathroom?"

Kimberly stood patiently at the bedside while Darcy decided. She felt much stronger than yesterday but still weak. "I don't think I can make it by myself," she admitted finally.

The nurse smiled kindly and nodded. "At least you're realistic….and honest. Those Avengers of yours are usually missing the mark for one or the other of those traits when they're injured."

Darcy might had protested the possessive part of that statement but her mind locked onto the last word. "Injured? Who's been injured?" She forgot to keep her tone casual. The worried, almost frantic question had the nurse glancing at her suspiciously.

"I'm sure they'll get around to explaining, hon. For now lets see if we can't get you cleaned up."

An hour later Darcy was feeling more human than she had in months. Her headache was still there but manageable. The cramps were diminished and the nausea was gone. She was freshly showered and dressed. Kimberly had even helped dry her hair and braid it back neatly. (Darcy had tried begging for a cup of coffee to round it all out, but the nurse had kiboshed that idea.)

While she reconnected the IVs that were feeding Darcy fluids and nutrients, another nurse nudged open the door and stuck her head in. "The crowd is getting a bit restless out here, Kim."

"Thanks, Trish," Kimberly called as the other nurse pulled the door closed. "So what do you think, hon? Ready to face the whole crowd? Or I can just let your two gentlemen in, if your prefer."

"I'm okay," Darcy said, astounded to find it was true. Somehow after all that had happened she didn't feel concerned about the being the focus of a half dozen superheroes. She was even thinking she might be able to handle Natasha's disappointment and anger…. Or maybe not, she thought, as a shiver ran up her spine. Regardless she still wanted to see them all.

Kimberly gave her an encouraging smile, checked the feeds and monitors one last time, then opened the door.

Steve and Bucky tripped through the now empty space. "Smooth," Tony's voice called from somewhere in the hall. While the super soldiers straightened themselves out, the rest of them poured in bringing noise and smiles and color. Tears swam in Darcy's eyes, but she held them back valiantly.

"Welcome home, kid," Barton said first, setting a overflowing bouquet of purple violets on her bedside table.

Tony produced a giant bundle of balloons with a flourish. "Just be glad he didn't go with the twelve foot teddy bear," Pepper whispered to her as Tony began tying the strings to the railing at the foot of her bed. She set a stack of magazines in the drawer of the table.

Sam brought a tablet for her to entertain herself. "No looking at porn," Tony instructed, as he struggled to get the balloons positioned just right. "They get a little uptight about that around here." Sam rolled his eyes and promised to give her the full details on that story later, stepping aside to let Thor through.

He provided snacks (she refrained from telling the thunderhead that she wouldn't be able to eat a poptart for a while), and a stunning potted plant with gray leaves and gold veins. It hailed from some unpronounceable place that she knew she would never be able to repeat.

Natasha wasn't scowling when she approached, which Darcy took as a good sign. She slipped a thin metal bracelet over Darcy's wrist. It slithered as if it was alive (definitely not metal!) and shrunk until it was almost flush with her skin. Natasha eyes flashed with warning when she met the redhead's gaze. "You will not take this off. Ever. Understand?" Darcy gave an affirmative nod. (Though it wasn't likely she would be able to get it off regardless.) "And when you're feeling better we are going to have a conversation about security, sestrenka." Darcy almost groaned but nodded instead. No sense in provoking the assassin now when she was getting a small reprieve.

Jane came next with a familiar looking zippered bag. "I thought I'd do your nails at some point," she told the younger woman. Darcy heard the faint clicking of nail polish bottles sliding against each other as the bag found a place on the lower table.

The last was Banner. He came with that bashful smile and a giant Hulk plushie. It made her laugh, even as she reached to wrap her arms around the fuzzy figure. "Everyone insisted that you needed to have some kind of stuffed animal," he explained.

Barton, who had hoisted himself up on the cabinet again, elaborated. "We _insisted _that you needed a cuddly protector. Hulk was the only one we could all agree on."

She laughed at Bruce's blush and the wide smiles everyone else sported. She loved these people. All their quirks and eccentricities included.

They stayed longer than she expected, entertaining her with little anecdotes from the months she had missed, though they made sure to keep things light. Eventually, Kimberly returned and declared that they would have to clear out. Darcy was treated to a round of hugs. Even from Tony.

The whole thing was bit surreal. She kept having to remind herself that this was reality, not a happy dream her mind created.

Seven days later, Darcy wasn't worried about possibly having hallucinations anymore. Nothing but reality could be this _boring _.

The nurses, Kim and Trish, had been working with her, helping her strengthen the muscles that had grown weak with forced immobility. Except for weird muscle cramps, wicked insomnia, and the odd anxiety attack, she felt practically normal. Which made her time in bed all the more boring.

Steve and Bucky tried to help, and their presence kept the panic from overwhelming her. But sometimes they would begin to suffocate her and she had to kick them out. (They had others things to do besides sit there all day anyway.) Since that first night, she refused to let them stay all night. Instead, the other tower-mates took turns trying to keep her entertained.

She wasn't sure if they had come up with a roster or drawn straws or something, but if she was awake there was always someone around. Tony was biggest night owl and would link his lab work up to her room on the nights she couldn't shake the insomnia.

They each had their own way of lifting her spirits, but she knew they were all tiptoeing around her still. She could feel it in the way they would start to make some reference and then abruptly change their minds. There were things they weren't telling her. Secrets they didn't trust her with. She couldn't tell if it was only because they didn't think she could handle it in her "fragile state" or if they really weren't supposed to tell her.

Wasn't like she had been exactly showing interest in what had happened the last seven months anyway. Truth was, she may not want to think about what Hydra had done to her but she didn't want to be babied about anything else. And it was fairly obvious that something had gone down while she was away. Thanks to Nurse Kim's slip, she knew someone had been injured, but for all the chatting she had been doing with the team, none of them mentioned it. That spelled suspicious is her book. It was a little frustrating but she let it pass. For now.

Currently, Barton was on babysitting duty. He had set up a makeshift archery range with arrows the size of darts and a board with everyone's mugshot on it. Tony was dead center.

"Kim," she called plaintively, setting down the little plastic bow.

The older woman immediately sprung up in the doorway. "What's wrong, hon?"

"Kim, as much as I enjoy seeing your beautiful face, when can I leave? More importantly, when can I have a coffee?"

Laughing, Kim came over to check the monitors Darcy was still hooked in to. They had stopped the IV two days ago and she was eating normal (if bland) food, though they won't let her have any coffee (bastards). "You might be able to get out soon. I'll run it by Dr. Morris. He'll probably agree as long as someone promises to keep an eye on you. You will need to come down here for physical therapy everyday until you're one hundred percent."

"Definitely. Everyday," she agreed. "As long as I get to see my own bed, I will do whatever you want." She didn't mention that she was looking forward to seeing her coffee bar more than her bed.

Kim laughed again and went to inform the doctor that his patient was getting restless.

Clint notched another little arrow to his bow and hit Tony's right eye. "You know," he began conversationally, "it might be better for you not to go to your apartment. There are certain people," a dart thunked into Steve's forehead, "who shall remain nameless, " another hit Bucky on the chin, "who would be willing to play guardian and let you stay with them. Seeing as how they have more space and all."

"Real subtle, Barton."

He only shrugged and smirked. "Never claimed to be, kid." He bounced to his feet and retrieved his arrows from the board. "Seriously, Darcy. They have an extra room up there. Sam was using it but he moved into my guest room a few months back. It was...It gave them a bit more privacy."

Darcy studied him with narrowed eyes. She caught the way he'd changed what he was going to say mid-sentence. She didn't call him on it.

"Maybe," was the response she gave.

Looking back now, Darcy could admit that she should have known better. Once the idea was out there in the cosmos she should have known it would happen. She was dating two men with enhanced hearing. They had probably heard it the minute it left Barton's mouth two days ago.

She was currently sitting on the couch in the apartment that Steve and Bucky...and herself were going to share. At least until she was stronger.

She was "supervising" as the men brought up a few boxes of things. Jane and Natasha had packed them without input from her.

She wasn't pouting. No way. Okay, maybe a little. But everyone was treating her like a child. She had been kidnapped not turned into a kid. Her brain was still functioning. Granted she was weak, and the panic attacks weren't exactly inspiring confidence, but she was still rational. Well...as rational as she ever got.

"Keep making that expression, doll, and I'll have to kiss you until it's gone," Bucky teased as he came back from dropping the last box into her new room.

She rolled her eyes, feeling irritable. "You need to update your lines, Barnes." The mood swings had been another fun side-effect that the nurses had warned her about, though when she was on the medical floor she had done a bit better controlling her reactions to them.

Coming around the corner, Steve caught the tone. The two men shared a look. Darcy nearly growled. "Would you two knock it off." Her arms folded over her chest defensively. She didn't need their she's-having-a-mood faces.

"Sweetheart, we're only worried about you," Steve said as he came around to sit beside her. He laid his hand on hers, his earnest eyes searching her face. "We only want to help."

She blew out a breath and tried to reel her irritation back in, as she let Steve pull her hand toward him. "I know. I appreciate that. I really hate feeling like an invalid."

Two firm hands began massaging her shoulders. "I understand. So does Steve. We're not trying to take over." She tilted her back and offered a disbelieving look. Bucky shrugged. "We're not. If this move really bothers you that much, we will take everything back down right now."

"No. If I don't stay here, I'm pretty sure Natasha would be moving in with me and she still hasn't given me that whole security lecture. I'm much safer here."

They both chuckled. "You really know how to make a guy feel special," Bucky remarked.

Steve kissed her cheek, and stood up. "We should do something. How about we go to a movie?"

"Ummm, I'd love to Captain but I don't know if I can make it further than the front door without one of you carrying me. And as much as I love the whole swooning-southern-belle-carry, not sure I want to do that in public."

"I was actually thinking we could use the media room."

"Oh. Then yes. Movie. Great plan."

It was a great plan, Darcy thought later as she snuggled up with both men on the large plush couch. Her head was on a pillow on Bucky's lap, his hand doing that great massage thing again. Her feet were in Steve's hands. He rubbed at them gently but in a way that didn't make her squirm from tickling. Impressive, as her feet had always been her most ticklish spot.

She wasn't really paying attention to the movie. It was some chick-flicky type love story that normally would have at least held her attention enough to mock it. Instead, she kept finding her eyes closing under the ministrations from her men.

Eventually her body gave into sleep.

She woke momentarily when Steve lifted her. The feel of him, his warmth and firm muscles, had her relaxing again before her brain even fully registered a reason to be disturbed. She didn't stir when he laid her into her new bed in their suite.

Her dreams were beautiful. Misty and fluid, the dreamscape showed her the hopes she had for the future in stunning color. She found herself cooking in the common kitchen, the Avengers and affiliates gathered around as they prepared for a holiday meal. Bucky and Clint were tossing biscuits at each other, trying to prove who had the better shot. Steve came up behind her, putting his arms around her middle and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Food smells almost as good as you." She laughed at his gentle flirting, laying her hands on his. Laughter became a squeal of delight, as he grabbed one hand and spun her around to the music. Then she found herself at some formal gala, Steve still holding her hand though he was now in tux that fit him...well let's say she was just glad she wasn't drooling. He gave her a smile and pressed a kiss to her hand before passing her off to Bucky. He looked lickable as always. The Soldier drew her close, his metal hand cool at the small of her back. The blue and silver gown she now wore dipped almost indecently low in back. Bucky's breath was warm on her neck as he leaned close to whisper in her ear. "You look good enough to eat in that dress, darlin'. When can we take you home?" As he drew back, the scene around them faded away into dim shadows until it was only the three of them and a large inviting bed to the left.

While her focus was on the two men, she didn't notice how the dim shadows grew menacing. She felt a shift in the air and turned to glance around. She couldn't find anything wrong and turned back. Only to find her boys replaced with those black-masked guards from her captivity. "No," she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "You're not real," she tried to tell them, as they began to advance. She tried to back up but the heel of her shoe caught on the train of that gorgeous dress. She began to fall, but the guards were there each grabbing one of her arms. She struggled against their hold, kicking out, wriggling, digging her heels in. It didn't matter. They weren't the least bit phased as they dragged her toward the bed that had become a replica of the medical bed she had been strapped to for months.

She slammed up out of the nightmare. Her forehead smacking Steve in the nose with a crack. She hardly noticed. The panic was gripping her hard in its jaws.

Her breathing was too fast, her heart pounding. Her eyes couldn't focus as her gaze whipped around the room searching for the faceless captors.

"Shh, shh. Darcy, sweetheart. Its okay. We're here." She knew that voice. She knew the shape of the figure beside her bed.

"Steve?" Her hands were clenched around the blankets, her body beginning to shake.

Steve stepped closer once more, removing his hand from his nose. "Yes, baby. I'm going to turn the light on okay?"

She nodded, trying not to sink into mindless anxiety.

The bedside lamp switched on, spilling light across her. Somehow it allowed her to take a full breath. He took a careful seat on the edge of the bed, reaching for her hand. Her fingers immediately laced through his, clenching just as tightly as they had the sheets. "Its okay now. You were having a nightmare. You're safe."

Movement at the end of the bed drew her eyes to Bucky. He came around the other side and mirrored Steve's position. "We're here, doll."

She nodded her understanding though she still couldn't quite find her voice.

The Captain kept up a stream of soft comforts as her breathing slowly returned to normal and the trembling tapered off. When her hands finally began to unclench, Steve lifted her hand to his lips. Pressing a small kiss to the back of her hand, he kept his eyes on her face.

She gave him a slightly apologetic smile. "Sorry," she mumbled, wishing she could pull the blankets over her head and pretend the nightmare hadn't happened.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he assured her. "Lay back down for me, baby." She did as he directed without question, too wrung out to put up any kind of resistance. He kept hold of her hand as he shifted his position slightly and shared a look with Bucky

On the other side, the Soldier released her hand to reach out to brush her hair off her cheek before beginning a soothing massage to her scalp.

Darcy rolled to her side facing Steve...and the light. Bucky's hand stroked down her exposed back. A grateful smile lit her lips and moisture filled her eyes, though she'd be damned if she let it fall. "You're going to stay?"

"Of course," Steve told her. "Try to sleep." With the strong presence of the two heros grounding her, she found sleep was far from elusive.

When she woke in the morning, the first thing her brain registered was the heat. It was stifling. She tried to kick off the blankets, but found they wouldn't budge. Opening her eyes, she found Bucky's bright blue eyes already on her...and only inches away. "Good morning, doll."

Behind her, there was a yawn and an echoing 'good morning' from Steve.

For a moment, she pondered her current placement. She was between the super soldiers. Under the covers while they were on top, fully dressed. (Hence why she couldn't get the blankets off.) Overall it wasn't exactly how she had pictured their first time in bed together.

The ridiculousness of it had a smile blooming on her face. They had to be quite a sight. "You know this bed isn't made for three." Heck, it wasn't even made for two super soldiers.

"Still better than bootcamp," Bucky commented, before leaning in to give a chaste kiss to her forehead. Then he rolled away and sprung to his feet in a move that actually impressed her with its fluid grace.

Steve gave a huff of amused exasperation. "Show off." He brushed her hair back and pressed a kiss to her exposed neck.

She couldn't help the little whimper for more that escaped. Her libido had been giving her subtle hints that it was as healthy as ever even if the rest of her wasn't.

Bucky paused in the stretch he had been performing at the sound. "Now that's playing dirty, doll. We're trying to behave here."

She gave him a smirk. "Don't think I ever asked you to behave."

Behind her, Steve groaned and rolled away. "I can't believe I'm saying this…. but she might actually be worse than you are," he told Bucky.

Darcy and Bucky shared an amused look. They were so going to have the Captain tied in knots when the time finally came. The thought had Darcy giggling.

Steve ignored it. "Do you two want breakfast now? Its still early. If not, I'm going to go for a quick run."

"What time is it," Darcy asked. She didn't have a clock and she was out of the habit of keeping her phone close by.

"It is currently 5:13 a.m.," Jarvis intoned from above.

Darcy groaned and buried her face in the pillow.

Bucky laughed. "I'm guessing that's a no on the breakfast. Go have your run, Stevie. I'll grab a shower then see if I can get sleeping beauty out of bed. Might have to try that whole kissing to wakefulness bit."

Darcy gave another muffled groan. Lifting her head just enough to have her words be heard, she tossed a retort. "Who's playing dirty now, Soldier?"

The only response was laughter as both men left the room. Darcy snuggled back into a comfortable position. The scent of them was still strong and she inhaled deeply as she closed her eyes.

Darcy avoided thinking about her nightmare all day.

After breakfast, she went to her physical therapy and chatted with Kim and Trish. Then she made Steve help her to the common room, where she spent the majority of the day hanging with Thor and Clint, who were having some sort of video game tournament.

While she had been away, the two had finally bonded. It had been a little tense between them before. What with Clint still having issues from Loki's mind control and Thor still loving his brother even if he was on the other side of the grave.

Almost two hours in, Darcy noticed a crate of game controllers beside the entertainment center. She had been about to question their purpose when Thor's exuberance had him crushing his current controller between his thumbs and forefingers. Clint paused the game and grinned, while Thor heaved a deep regretful sigh. "Hey, you made it more than an hour this time," the archer praised as he jumped up to toss a new controller to the golden-haired god.

Darcy had nearly bitten though her lip trying to contain her laughter.

While she watched their antics, she went over Jane's current research that Jarvis had downloaded to her tablet. She still didn't understand most of it but at least it would make her feel like she hadn't missed so much when she got back to the lab.

Eventually Bucky came to retrieve her for dinner. Apparently the group dinners had fallen to the wayside. She had been disappointed to hear the news. Those dinners had been like a real family tradition. Something her life had been sorely lacking.

The Soldier seemed to catch the shift in her mood. "What's wrong, doll," he asked as he let her down from his arms in their apartment, close enough to the furniture that she could use it for balance. She had been very clear with them about letting her do as much of her own walking as she could handle. Didn't stop them from hovering though. Bucky was right behind her as she slowly (agonizingly slow) made her way toward the dining room.

The apartment was set-up in a giant U shape around the living room, which was where the elevator dumped everyone. The kitchen and dining room were one large space to the far right on the U, accessible through an open archway from the living room. Another archway led from the dining room to a long hall which had doors for the three bedrooms and a guest bathroom. On the far left of the U, there was a small office and a studio for Steve. There was also a storage room that had morphed into Bucky's personal armory.

"It's nothing," she finally said in answer to his question.

She shuffled forward another step and almost planted her face into his chest. He was giving her that I-call-bullshit face, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. "Really, it's fine. I guess I'm a little disappointed that the group dinners stopped. Everyone seemed to enjoy them."

Bucky gave her a long unreadable look before stepping aside to let her continue. By the time she made it to the table, her legs were shaking and there was sweat at her hairline. This whole walking thing was way harder than she remembered.

Once she was securely in a seat, Bucky went over to help Steve with the last of the meal preparations. It was so very domestic watching the two of them move about the kitchen. Steve had swing music playing through the apartment and a big grin on his face.

Darcy couldn't help but smile back when he looked her way. She also noticed Bucky whispering something to Steve that she couldn't hear. It made her roll her eyes. For men who supposedly were very good at stealth they were completely obvious.

When the two men seated themselves, Darcy figured she would grab the bull by the horns. "So, what were you two talking about over there?"

They did that silent-communication-through-glances thing again.

Steve rose to the question though. "Bucky told me you were disappointed about the dinners having stopped. I guess we didn't realize no one had explained why." When he paused, she waved a hand urging him to continue. "When you first went missing, we were too busy to really even think about actual home-cooked meals. As time went on, no one wanted to take over cooking. Not because we didn't have the ability or time. Simply because that was your thing, no one wanted to take your place. Honestly, no one could ever take your place Darcy."

Okay, that had been a bit deeper than she thought the conversation had been headed. She took a moment to compose herself before responding. "Are you trying to make me cry, Rogers," she asked with the barest hint of sass, so that he knew she was teasing.

Shaking his head slightly, he gave her a fond smile. "No, ma'am. Just giving you the facts."

Darcy had a witty comeback for that. Honest to god, she did. It was sassy and deflecting and included a jab at the utter sweetest of this man. However, her mouth refused to let her brain push the words out. Instead, she ducked her eyes and dug into her food.

Glancing up a few minutes later, she caught both men eyeing her with those adoring smiles that had a blush growing on her cheeks. Okay no more looking at the super soldier twins, she coached herself.

The boys, however, weren't quite done trying to make her blush for the evening.

As Steve cleared away the plates, Bucky leaned forward on the table grabbing her attention. "We've got a proposition for you, doll." He had that charming devilish smirk on his lips while his bright eyes danced.

Darcy tried to steel herself. She had the worse defense when he used those gorgeous baby blues. "I'm listening."

"Your bed is very small," he stated.

She scoffed. "For you, maybe. I'm quite comfortable."

"Are you really," Steve asked as he rejoined them at the table. "Because it didn't seem like you were last night."

The wince happened before she could censor it.

"We're not complaining, sweetheart," Steve hurried on, seeing the wince.

"We don't want you to have to suffer through nightmares alone," Bucky added quietly, his voice far more serious in tone. "And if you need us to be in the room for you to sleep we can do that. We can all snuggle up in that _tiny _bed of yours. Or…." He let the sentence trail off, drawing her in.

"Or what," she finally asked, curiosity forcing her to rise to Bucky's bait.

"Or you could stay in our room," he supplied.

Her heart did that funny leaping thing that bad romance novels always talked about. (Not that she would ever admit to that.) She didn't have to think about her answer. "Yes." She caught Bucky's victorious grin before he smothered it into his more familiar smirk.

Steve pulled out her chair and helped her back to the living room while Bucky did the dishes. She was tempted to tease him about getting rusty, but again it just wouldn't come out.

Had these two finally fixed her filter? That would be... weird. And inconvenient. She needed her sass like she needed her coffee (which they still hadn't put on her approved foods list).

Snuggled up on the couch with Steve she flipped through the million channels Tony had available. She couldn't seem to settle on anything for more than 3.2 seconds but the Captain made no comment. He seemed content to simply sit beside her, one arm around her shoulders, thigh pressed to hers.

Last night they had been perfect gentlemen, making sure she able to sleep. She knew they weren't asking for anything when they invited her to share their roomier bed. But….the implication was still there that more would come soon. Or maybe she was just a little hyped up. She had to be dead not to be affected by them constantly touching her and kissing her these past two weeks. And from watching them strut around half-naked and sweaty after their workouts, or wrapped in only a towel and freshly showered (as Bucky had been this morning). All that muscled man flesh glistening with water droplets, hair slicked back and a saucy grin, while the towel hung dangerously low on his hips.

She gave a groan and drew her legs up so she could bury her face in her knees. Deep breath, Lewis, she coached herself. She was pretty sure that spontaneous combustion had been disproven by science, but the way she was heating up might blow those findings out of the water.

Steve was instantly concerned. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Oh, not much," she muttered into her legs. "I'm dating the two hottest men I've ever met. Not that we can actually do much of the 'dating part' since I'm semi bed-ridden. And now we're gonna be sharing the same bed, but I'm supposed to keep my hands to myself and behave." She raised her head to look him in the eye. "I really don't want to behave."

The dark edged chuckle he gave revved her engine all the more. His voice was gruff and low as he leaned closer. "You never asked _us _to behave," he said in an echo of her earlier teasing.

Darcy could only gape. Sweet Jesus. America's golden boy had a naughty side and she couldn't wait to see more of it.

His fingers carded through her hair then tighten as he aligned his lips to hers. It was so different than the other two kisses they had shared. This was leading to more. A dark promise.

Well fuck me, she thought irreverently.

She tried to lean in, mewling softly, but he held her in place for his explorations. He tilted her head back trailing kisses down her neck, finishing with a gentle bite where her neck met her shoulder.

She was melting. Almost literally, as her legs slide down the cushion and off the couch. Her body surrendered completely as her eyes floated closed.

"That's it, baby," he whispered encouragingly, breath hot on her skin, as he felt every ounce of tension dripped out of her.

She was lost in the sensations, more turned on than she could ever remember being…. and she still had all her clothes on. Her hands tried to find purchase on his shoulders as he worked his way up to her mouth and pressed her against the back of the couch.

She bit her lip, trying to keep the moaning to a minimum.

A small splash of water fell across her face and Steve froze. Opening her eyes, she could see water droplets in Steve's hair, small drips falling from the ends. Damp spots on the collar and shoulders of his shirt grew as the water soaked in. His eyes narrowed. "Bucky," he growled in irritation.

The Soldier chuckled, stepping into Darcy's line of view, her super soaker in one hand, the barrel resting on his shoulder. "Just helping keep things cool, punk."

"Jerk."

Darcy could only laugh as the two mock-wrestled for control of the squirt gun before settling in on either side of her when the battle became a draw. Right at that moment, she felt at home. She felt peace. The shadows that were trailing the edges of her consciousness retreated in the face of her joy. The nightmares wouldn't be able to find her tonight.


	22. Chapter 22

Darcy was breathing heavy, heart pounding, when she rounded the corner onto the range on Clint's floor. The archer spun toward her his bow at the ready, scanning behind her for threats.

She didn't even pause in her hurried shuffle-walk as she skuttled behind him. "Hide me! Hide me! Hide me!"

"What the hell, Lewis?"

"Please," she begged, shamelessly using her best puppy eyes and quivering bottom lip. Honestly she had never been able to pull that look off very well. It had never gotten her out of any speeding tickets.

Surprisingly Clint caved immediately. He gently but quickly manhandled her into a small storage closet. "Stay quiet," he instructed as he closed and locked the door from the outside. That small click of the bolt sliding home should have triggered panic. It should have had her hyperventilating. Instead she was only grateful. She knew she was safe here. She tried to slow her breathing and remain as quiet as possible.

She could hear a muffled_ twang thunk _as Clint fired off another couple arrows before the threat appeared. "Nat," Clint called easily. "You going to take a turn?" He was cool as a cucumber and Darcy had to admit she was impressed. It took a strong man to stand up under Tasha's scrutiny.

"No. I'm looking for Darcy. Jarvis is refusing to give me her location. Steve and Bucky bristled with alpha male ego when I asked so no help from that direction."

"What makes you think she'd come here," he asked.

Tasha sighed, more a puff of irritated breath than anything. "I don't know. If you see her, tell her I need to speak with her immediately."

"I will."

There was a small silence then the_ twang thunk _began again. Still Clint didn't come to get her for another few minutes. When he pulled open the door, he seemed wary as if he was going to find her curled up in the corner crying.

Granted that had happened during a few of her more intense panic attacks. Even a week ago, it might have happened. It had been two weeks since she had moved in with the boys, almost a month since she had been returned the Tower. Sometimes she felt like she had never left, but there was always something to remind her.

"Thank you," she said as she exited the small space, brushing off the bit of dust that had smeared on her jeans.

"No problem. Want to tell me why you're hiding from Nat," he asked as he played with his bow.

"Umm, not really." Her eyes slide away from him and to the door. No chance she would make it before he caught her. But they were all still treating her with kid gloves and he might give her a pity head start.

"Lewis."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. She wants to talk about security and training. Which is all well and good, but I haven't figured out how to apologize yet."

"Apologize? What are you apologizing for?"

She treated him to one of her boy-you're-thick faces. "For getting kidnapped."

The stillness in Barton's expression wasn't his usual stoic badassery. Instead it was...shock? Surprise?

"Darcy," he began. (Uh oh, first name.) "You do know that it wasn't your fault that Hydra took you, right?" She could see the concern building in his eyes.

"Well,_ duh _. I mean it was my fault for making it so easy. I didn't take a bodyguard like Tasha told me to. I completely flubbed the self-defense stuff she spent so much time teaching me. And I didn't even get a hit in with the taser. I made everyone worry and have to rescue me. And the whole thing could have been avoided if I'd just listened. I'm pretty shitty sidekick material," she finished with a sigh.

A hand on her shoulder spun her around and into a non-lethal hug from the very spy she had been discussing. Darcy might have protested, but hugs from Tasha were rare. Plus this one seemed especially fierce.

When the red head finally released her, Darcy swore she saw the sheen of moisture in the woman's eyes. She did not comment. Neither did Clint was who playing witness to this scene.

"Wait. I thought you left. Where were you even hiding," she asked looking around the fairly sparse room. "And how did you know where I was?"

Natasha laughed and clicked a nail against the thin bracelet on Darcy's wrist. To be honest, she had forgotten all about it. "Tracking device."

"You stuck a tracker on me," she questioned. She wasn't as surprised as she thought she should be. Too much time around super spies and danger to be worried about the loss of privacy.

Natasha gave her a nod. "Only I have access to it currently, but in case of emergencies Jarvis will be able to use it as well. It is to be a last line of security in the future." Her gaze sharpened on Darcy's face. "It is not to replace any other security measures."

"Okay, mom," Darcy readily agreed, hand on her heart. "No galavanting into the wide world without following every security procedure. Promise. Swear to Thor."

Natasha smiled. Without taking her eyes off Darcy she threw a command to Clint. "Stop smirking."

"What smirking," he asked, his face split with a smile, as he held up his hands in a I-come-in-peace gesture.

Darcy rolled her eyes. Natasha refrained though Darcy could see the urge play across her features.

"I've been looking for you."

Darcy froze, one hand buried in Tony's fridge. She had been expecting Steve or Bucky to come and find her eventually. She had hoped they were going to take a bit longer though. Had banked on it actually.

"Looks like you found me," she teased, throwing a look over her shoulder at Bucky. He was studying her, head cocked to one side, arms folded over his chest. "So I'm sure this looks like a little strange," she began trying to explain her current activity.

Bucky said nothing, though she knew he had to be thinking some interesting thoughts. That was because he had caught her cleaning out the fridge in Stark's lab (no one had bothered for the whole time she had been gone going from the smell) and stocking it with all his favorite foods. The plan had been to do this quietly and get out before even Tony himself noticed her. Jarvis was supposed to be helping and alerting her to Tony returning. She should have requested he notify her about anyone else approaching as well.

Without a word, Bucky pulled a trash bin over and began depositing the spoiled chinese cartons and take-out boxes into it.

Darcy knew she owed Bucky an explanation, but it could wait until later. For now she went back to her task.

It had been three weeks since they had released her from medical. Three weeks of sharing a bed with her boys, though they had not done more than some heavy make-out sessions. Three agonizing-constant-horniness-I-might-die-if-I-don't-get-laid-soon weeks.

In that time she had made significant progress. She was feeling practically normal. The nightmares popped up once in a while, along with the panic attacks. But she was walking. The weakness had mostly faded, though she wasn't going to be running any marathons any time soon. Nor was she keen on wearing heels yet either. (Yes she said keen - she's been hanging with two real life models of 40's slang - deal.)

Still for all her progress, the doctors kept insisting on further tests. She had a checkup nearly every day. They took blood samples and made her pee in a cup (so not fun). They even took some hair samples. That had seemed a bit extreme to her, but Bruce had assured her it was necessary. For him, she put up with it.

She would put up with a lot for any of the Avengers. Including the most annoying among them, Barton and Stark. Which was why she was involved in her current project.

She had made a few discoveries the last few weeks. And not all of them were about Steve or Bucky. For example, she had found out that Tony had been continuing to pay her salary (which Pepper apparently doubled - to include hazard pay) even while she was kidnapped. He had also opened a line of credit for her at her favorite coffee shop and arranged to have whatever she wanted hand-delivered. Of course, Tony hadn't been the one to tell her all of this. Jarvis had done so, per Pepper's instructions.

When she had tried to confront him about it, the genius had played dumb. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Lewis. Maybe you should have medical check to make sure Rogers didn't give you a concussion when he was banging you against the wall." (It was no secret that she was sharing a bed with the super soldier twins. Nothing stayed private when two super spies and an omnipresent AI kept tabs on you.) She knew the more uncomfortable he became the more he tried to needle her. She ignored it, and pressed on with her thank you. He hadn't let her finish.

Since she hadn't been able to tell him thank you she was going to show him.

She set the last pre-made smoothie into the fridge and got to her feet, shutting the door.

Bucky dragged the trash can to a corner before stepping into her space. For a moment she couldn't read his poker face. When a soft smile broke free she echoed it. Shrugging, she headed out, the Soldier hot on her heels.

"I know what you're doing," he said conversationally as he followed.

"What am I doing exactly," she asked, carefully not looking at him. She was not embarrassed about being caught. Well not more than a smidge.

His fingers wrapped around her wrist pulling her to a stop in the hall. "The same thing you did when you bought Thor thirty-eight boxes of Pop-Tarts in every available flavor. After you found out he refused to leave until you were found, even when Odin ordered him back to Asgard. The same thing you did when you snuck into Bruce's apartment and covered his table in Hulk_ and _Banner action figures. After you learned he Hulked out in front of the CIA building until they agreed to help look for you."

She wriggled her wrist trying to get him to release her. "Is there a point to this, Barnes?" She knew she was getting defensive.

He didn't release her. Instead he yanked her toward him. Unprepared she stumbled and found herself pressed up against his chest, his arms holding her tightly. "You're beautiful. Beautiful and kind and crazy." The way he looked down at her had her heart tripping. She could feel the pounding in her chest. He leaned in as if he might kiss her, then withdrew again. His head tilted to the side and his lips twitched. "I love you."

Her mouth fell open. She wanted to say it. She really did. But the words stuck somewhere in her throat.

He didn't seem bothered by her lack of verbal response. In fact he gave a small chuckle. "This wasn't exactly the way I had been planning on telling you. I was going to class it up a bit. Make my declaration more charming and romantic than Steve's bedside bombshell. But you have a habit of drawing my words out of my head."

His metal hand cupped her cheek and she leaned into the touch, her eyes steady on his. She couldn't say the words but she still wanted him to hear them.

There was affection in his gaze when he set her away from him. "Come on, doll," he instructed as he tucked her beneath his shoulder. "Steve's waiting for us."

"Can't keep the Captain waiting," she agreed.

She thought they were going to head back to the apartment. Instead when the elevator doors opened she was looking out at the common room. Bucky lead her to the kitchen where Steve, Bruce, and Thor were all cooking…. while wearing matching black and white polka dot aprons.

Quietly, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. The snap of the picture had Steve looking up. He blushed slightly at her wide smile.

"You're welcome," Clint whispered as he slipped past her to grab the stack of plates off the counter.

"Any dessert you want for a week," she told him as he slipped back through.

"I'm holding you to that, Lewis," he called at a more normal volume.

Steve approached, the blush still staining his cheeks. Must not pinch, she coached herself. Must not pinch. Must not...oh what the hell.

She reached up and smushed his cheeks in her fingers. "You are adorable," she cooed at him.

He batted her hands away gently. "Alright, alright. Get a good look now, because that picture is getting deleted."

"We'll see," she taunted, tucking the phone away.

She was sure he was going to debate the point, but Thor called out that the feast was ready. Everyone was accounted for at the table, even Maria and Phil had apparently been invited. Of course, Steve and Bucky were acting as bookends on either side of her, while the rest filled in wherever there was a space. The table itself had been lengthened since she had been gone, a fact she hadn't noticed until she started counting heads. The conversation was as vibrant and colorful as the characters involved.

Eventually, Darcy couldn't hold it in any longer. "Okay, I have to know. How did you get them to agree to the aprons," she asked Clint who was straight across from her. On her right, she heard Steve groan.

"He convinced Thor that it was traditional garb when cooking for family," Phil stated mildly from Clint's right, though the gleam in his eye said he found it as hysterical as she did. "No one could dissuade him after that. He insisted anyone who wanted to cook for you had to wear one."

Her loud laughter drew everyone's attention but she didn't mind. Everything was perfect. From the food, to the company, to the two warm hands that were resting on her thighs beneath the table.

When her laughter finally tapered off, she turned and waved to Thor. "Thank you, big guy." He gave her a regal nod and that big goofy smile she was so fond of. She had a sneaking suspicion that Thor wasn't as naive as he acted sometimes, but she would never call him on it. Watching the results was way too entertaining.

"I'll be back to making dinners starting tomorrow," she announced to the table at large. There were cheers and scattered applause.

She should have known, looking around her at that perfect moment, that it couldn't last. She had never been that lucky in life. But they said lightning never struck twice, and fate had already hurled a good bolt in her direction. What more could it throw?

Darcy rolled her eyes as Kim stepped away, another vial of blood in her hand. It was the third blood sample they had insisted on this week.

She was getting sick of the constant checkups. She felt fine.

Kim handed off the blood to someone in the hall then poked her head back in. "It'll be a few minutes, hon."

WIth a long suffering sigh, Darcy settled back in the examine chair. She didn't bother to reach for one the newspapers stacked on a nearby table. Nor did she try to turn on the television.

It had been a week since she had taken over making dinners again, over a month since she had moved in with the boys. Still, she was playing the avoidance game as far as the rest of the world was concerned. She was safe and comfortable in the bubble of the Tower. No need to shake things up yet.

Someone hesitantly cleared their throat in the doorway. Darcy glanced over and smiled when she saw Bruce.

"Hey. What's up, doc?"

His return smile was as hesitant as his steps as he moved toward her. He hadn't even chuckled at her poor joke. This was probably not a good sign.

He stood awkwardly, staring at the chart in his hands to keep from meeting her eyes.

"What are you doing here, Bruce," she asked. Apprehension was crawling up her spine.

"I've been monitoring your chart and working with your blood samples. When the latest results came in I told the doctors to let me tell you."

"Tell me what? You're freaking me out, Bruce." Unconsciously, she reached for something to hold onto to. A warm hand was suddenly there wrapping around her own.

Her startled gaze jumped to Sam's face. She hadn't even seen him come in. "Its okay, good-lookin'."

She nodded, grateful for the contact.

Bruce cleared his throat and she re-focused on him. "One of the drugs that was in your system was a mood stabilizer. Similar to an antidepressant."

"Hydra had me on happy pills," she asked incredulously. "Well that was mighty kind of them. Lets fucking kidnap her but make sure to give her the Prozac."

Sam squeezed her hand. "Hey. Calm down. We know this is hard, but you need to start hearing some of this. The harder you pretend that nothing happened, the longer you bury it, the harder it's going to be to heal from this. I know you, Darcy. You want this swept under the rug, but it won't go away. Barnes and Rogers can both tell you that."

"We don't have to do this if you don't feel ready," Bruce said. "I only wanted to tell you that it was wearing off that you might experience some unpredictable mood swings or feelings of depression. We wanted you to be prepared for that."

She nodded and pulled her hand back from Sam's grip, withdrawing from both men. "Got it. I'm all prepared now." She hopped off the table without another word and stalked away. She needed to talk to Natasha.

Bruce heaved a Hulk worthy sigh and looked up the to the camera in the corner. "That was far from ideal. It certainly doesn't seem like she's ready to hear the rest."

Watching at the other end of the feed, Steve murmured in agreement.

"Its a first step," Sam said. "Let me know when you two want to try again." He gave the camera a little wave as he exited.

She had sworn, on pain of death (not an exaggeration), that she would never ever repeat what Natasha and herself had discussed.

Darcy had no problem with that. It hadn't exactly been a topic she wanted to talk about to begin with.

As awful and gut-wrenching as it had been, she felt like a weight had been lifted. Having a badass assassin tell you that you were stronger than anything a crazy militant organization could throw at you did a lot for a girl's self-confidence.

When she had told Tasha about her plans for the evening (once she had dried her tears), the older woman had jumped at the chance to assist. She shoved Darcy into the bathroom and told her to shower, while she prepped everything else. Darcy gave no resistance to this plan.

As she stepped out, wrapped in a silk robe Tasha had tossed to her, she found that 'everything else' included calling for backup.

"Why is Barton here," she questioned the redhead. She could understand Pepper, Jane, or even Maria, but really?

Clint turned around from where he was digging in a large bag on the end table and glared. "Not a word," he instructed, pointing a finger at her. "One word and I will do unspeakable things."

"Slow your roll, Clint. I don't even know why you're here in the first place."

"Make-up," Tasha answered shortly, as she sorted clothes into various piles on the coffee table and couch.

Darcy couldn't prevent the twitch of her lips, but when Clint's eyes narrowed she smothered the smile.

Thankfully, Natasha drew her attention to the clothing selection. The choices ran the gambit from understated to too-slutty-to-be-worn-in-public. Darcy settled on something closer to the latter end of the spectrum than the former.

They debated heels: Natasha for and Clint against. In the end she went with a low-heeled sandal to compromise between the two assassins. She had been steady on her feet for the last week, but three inch heels would be pushing it.

Then it was time for hair and make-up.

Tasha tamed her hair into loose flowing curls, while Clint worked on her face. When they declared her finished she hurried to the tall mirror in the hall.

"Hot damn," she declared. She looked good. Real good. She wasn't sure where Clint had acquired his skill but she wasn't going to tease him since he had done such a wonderful job. (And she might want to use that skill again.)

"You ready," Natasha asked, coming up behind her.

"Hell yeah."

Laughing she put her hands on Darcy's shoulders and turned her toward the door. "Go get 'em, sestrenka."

Bucky was browsing through Steve's internet history, while the Captain in question was sketching on the other end of the couch. He wasn't snooping. He was doing recon. Steve had been subtly hinting that they should get Darcy a gift. He was only trying to determine what kind of gift the punk had in mind.

When the elevator dinged, he looked up. They had only added the sound last week after they had nearly caused Darcy to fall over in fright for the third time. As the only one without enhanced hearing, she appreciated the notification of when they were entering.

His vision narrowed to the woman stepping out of the car. She paused inside the doors so they could slide shut.

His gaze never wavered, drinking her in, while he set the tablet aside. He knew Steve hadn't noticed yet.

"Steve," he called putting a dab of urgency into his tone, but not enough that the Captain would go into battle-mode.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blonde's head snap up.

Darcy took a few more slow steps forward, her hips swaying with intent. Bucky didn't know what to call the ensemble she wore other that sexy as hell. The long black dress had one long sleeve on the right but nothing on the opposing shoulder, as the neckline cut diagonally across her collarbone. Her right leg was uncovered, the dress abruptly ending high on her thigh on that side while sweeping the floor on the left.

Her smile was mischief and desire and confidence as she did a small turn. "Do you like it," she asked coyly over her bare shoulder.

From the back, the dress appeared to be much less revealing than it was. Only her shoulder could be seen as a fall of fabric ran down the right side and covered the bare leg. It was almost innocent, but when she turned there was no mistaking the design. It was meant for seduction. Not the blatant over-sexed seduction of more-skin-means-sexier. This was classic. Ageless. More tantalizing in what it did reveal because of what it didn't.

Bucky knew his voice was husky when he finally responded. "Oh yeah, doll."

"We'll get you one in every color," Steve said, as he rose from the couch.

Bucky was only a step behind. No way was the punk getting the first kiss. Using his metal arm, he gave Steve a shove that unbalanced the Captain for a precious second giving Bucky the opportunity to slide up to Darcy first.

The taste of laughter assaulted him as he took her lips. She melted into him, a low hum of approval in her throat. He felt a hard pinch to his side from Steve but ignored it. Instead he smirked and drew back to see Darcy's eyes clouded with need.

Steve stepped up behind her, his hand running up her bare arm and shoulder. She turned toward him, silently demanding a kiss from him as well. He complied without hesitation.

"How attached are you to this dress," Bucky asked casually, fingering the edge of the fabric of her sleeve.

She broke away from Steve with a low laugh. "No. This is Natasha's. It will go back to her in one piece, gentlemen." Her eyes were dancing when she met his gaze. "Though I'm not opposed to losing some of my own wardrobe in the future."

His hands clenched on her hips as Steve pressed forward, catching her between them firmly.

"Jarvis," Steve called, between trailing kisses up Darcy's neck. "Restrict all access to this floor."

"Yes, Captain."

Her head fell back against Steve's shoulder as she lifted her bare leg to wrap around Bucky. He caught at it with his metal hand, while his flesh fingers traced the neckline or her dress and began to tug it down. Unwrapping inches of soft skin.

"Can we do the whole privacy mode, too," Darcy asked, her voice beginning to take on a breathy tone. "I'm only putting on a show for two."

"Of course, Darcy."

Two floors down Clint gave a frustrated groan as the video feed went black. "Aw, come on Jarvis. Be a pal. The fade to black thing is no way to end this."

A hard smack to the back of his head had him darting forward. "This isn't a movie for your entertainment, Barton," Natasha chastised. "Besides I'm sure you can find enough entertainment right here," she told him as she stalked around the couch to face him across the open floor.

Clint rolled his shoulders back and stretched his neck as if he were warming up for a fight. "I suppose you're right." His grin was wide as they clashed together.

Darcy had been laying awake in their expansive shared bed for a while. She wasn't really ready to get up.

Steve had dragged Bucky out a little while ago to go running, claiming that they needed to give her a break. She hadn't argued though her body felt good enough for another round. Tired but strong. Probably covered in the marks of their possession and exuberance. Not that she minded in the least.

After the last 36 hours, during which she had helped the boys christen every piece of furniture in the apartment, she was ready to declare herself one hundred percent healed. Even if the doctors kept insisting on further tests.

In fact she was better than a hundred percent. She was at least three hundred percent. Of course this was giving Bucky and Steve 100 points each which they bestowed on her through close contact. More like insertion. She chuckled at her own humor.

A soft noise caught her attention.

She focused on it trying to determine why such a little thing would be enough to take her mind off her two hunks of perfect man flesh (cause yeah, her mind had been gearing up to head down very-naughty-lined-with-naked-men roads).

Now that her attention was on it, the noise resolved itself into several voices. They seemed muted which made sense since there was a closed door between her and sound. But the weird thing was it didn't seem like they were in the hall, and she shouldn't be able to hear someone further away than that.

"Shouldn't they be out of her system by now," Steve was asking.

Well that sounded ominous. Were they talking about the drugs Hydra had pumped her full of? How could they still be in her system? It had been weeks. And hadn't Bruce said that the generic Hydra-brand Prozac had worn off?

Interested piqued, she tried to slide out of bed as quietly as possible. The super soldiers were likely to come running if they heard her. Plus she didn't want to interrupt what sounded like a _fascinating _conversation about her that she hadn't been invited to.

"You would think," Tony snarked. "But apparently her body wouldn't metabolize it."

Darcy eased the door open and slide into the hallway on sock covered feet.

"They programmed her DNA that way," Bruce explained. "Like a timer. The suppressant wouldn't start breaking down until certain hormones kicked in and triggered her body to start metabolizing it. And because they were keeping her regulated, the hormones hadn't been present until now."

"What does that mean for the big picture," Clint asked.

"It means you chauvinist bastards had better start explaining," Natasha demanded. Her voice was full of ice cold anger.

Darcy remained where she was just around the corner. She had been intending on asking basically the same question. She had even put one foot forward to step out.

Sounded like Natasha had it handled though. The spy was much better at intimidation anyway. Let the boys deal with her wrath before Darcy took a swing. They would be a lot more receptive to whatever she wanted when Natasha got done with them.

"Nat," Barton began trying to pacify the angry ex-Russian.

"Don't even start, Clint. You five have been keeping secrets and while I understand the value of maintaining certain lies, this is out of line. So start talking."

"We may have an idea of what Hydra was trying to accomplish with Darcy," Bucky offered.

Bruce began his explanation again. "She has a derivative of Erskine's serum in her system and a suppressant that has been keeping it from activating. She also had a hormone stabilizer and mood stabilizer. Those kept her from going into her cycle and probably assisted with how she has been adjusting since the kidnapping. They started to wear off which restarted her cycle. As her hormone levels have changed the suppressant has begun to metabolize and in turn activated the last of the drugs, which are…."

Tony took over from there when it seemed Bruce's pause became uncomfortable. "For the non-science majors: They set the drugs up like a line of dominoes. They gave her some mood stabilizers-to keep down the crazy- and hormone inhibitors to keep her from having her 'girl time'. Then they programmed her DNA to keep her body from metabolizing the rest. So when the inhibitor wore off, her hormone levels change which tells her body to start metabolizing the suppressant that's been holding back a knock-off of the super serum. It also kick starts the last two drugs: one to help with a little bow-chicka-wow-wow and another to help with the baby making."

"Are you _fucking _serious," Darcy exclaimed as she whirled into the room.

Immediately the gathered men shifted uncomfortably. All except Tony, who whispered "uh-oh, the monkey's out".

"You've known about this all along," she accused Steve and Bucky with an angry glare. Neither denied the accusation. "And what? You didn't think I could handle this? Didn't think I needed to know? What? Explain it to me?" Steve's mouth opened as if he was going to attempt an explanation, but she spun away from them to look at the other three men. "And don't think you aren't just as guilty in all this. I just don't have the time to deal with you too." She looked to Natasha. "You'll handle them for me right?"

The assassin gave the sharp nod. Bruce and Clint swallowed hard. Tony groaned.

"Now someone better start from the top," she demanded, hands on her hips.

Barton started. "Hydra didn't take you by accident, Lewis. They targeted you because you're connected to all of us and they assumed you would be more easily accessible than Pepper or Jane. They wanted to turn you into an undercover agent."

Outraged, she nearly sputtered. "I would never-"

"They weren't going to give you a choice," Bucky said.

Darcy understood with striking clarity. They hadn't given Bucky a choice either.

"The idiots couldn't make it work though," Tony tossed in. "Apparently you were more resistant than Hydra could handle." It sort of sounded like a compliment from the sassy genius.

"So they changed tactics," Natasha picked up. "Right?" She looked to Clint for confirmation and he nodded. "They couldn't have you be useful as an agent, so you became valuable as a bargaining chip. They wanted you to come back here, and get involved with someone. Most likely they were hoping for Steve as he had been the only one you'd been seen in public with."

Darcy wasn't stupid. "They were hoping I'd get knocked up."

Natasha nodded.

The archer took back up the explanation. "Coulson thinks they were going to program you to leave the building as soon as it happened. Then they could pick you back up. Instant hostage and your baby would become their new Asset, trained from birth so they couldn't escape Hydra's hold like Bucky did."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Darcy commented in voice that was far too calm for all these revelations. Her knees felt weak as she braced herself with one hand on the wall.

Steve and Bucky were there immediately. Each reaching for her, to offer comfort.

She batted them away and stepped out of range, backing into a chair. "Nope. Nope. Nope. Do not touch me right now."

"We wanted to tell you, sweetheart," Steve began. "We weren't sure that you were ready to hear it."

"You…," the words trailed off. She had to give them that one. She had been throwing out pretty big avoidance signals. Enough that Sam had gone into counselor mode. "Okay. Granted." She sank down into the chair behind her and gave the super soldiers permission to approach with a wave of her hand. They came to her side, each laying a hand on her shoulder in support.

Around her, everyone was silent. Even loudmouth Tony, though he was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet like a child playing at patience. They were giving her a moment to process and she took it gratefully.

She knew that even though Hydra had been trying to manipulate her for their own ends, they hadn't been responsible for the attraction she had to her two men. That had started long before. The rest of it….well the whole baby bit might be a concern far down the road, but she wasn't quite ready for that responsibility. She had made sure to use protection and would continue to do so in the future. If she ever did forget, she was certain Mr. Responsible Steve would remind her.

So unless she woke up tomorrow able to toss Steve or Bucky around like a rag doll, she wasn't going to worry.

Still...

"Is there_ anything _else," she asked eyeing each of them in turn.

"There may be one last item on this meeting's agenda," Tony snarked.

"Spit it out, Stark," she said wearily.

"Has anyone mentioned Ultron, yet?"


	23. Chapter 23

Darcy had always been good at adjusting. Aliens, billionaires, thawed American heros. She honestly hadn't thought much more could surprise her.

Which, of course, the universe took as a challenge.

Now she may or may not be developing actual superpowers. Also she and her unconceived child may or may not be on Hydra's go-to hostage list.

Oh, and one more fun tidbit, Stark had created his own supervillain who had tried to destroy the world. The day had been saved (obviously), but there had been costs to be paid. And some had paid higher than others.

At least now she knew what everyone had been avoiding discussing the last few weeks.

She also knew the extent of what Hydra had been trying to accomplish with her kidnapping. No telling what the end result would be though. Not until the super serum finished absorbing into her system.

After Tony had dropped the Ultron bomb into the conversation and everyone had said their piece, they had cleared out. Bruce and Natasha had stuck around to explain what was going to happen in greater detail. Though she didn't want to hear it, Darcy listened. It was time she started dealing with this shit instead of burying her head in the sand.

As she understood it her sex drive was about to get a big boost. Not that it needed any help as evidenced by the last two days. She had squirmed in her seat and tried not look anyone in the eye while Natasha had lectured Steve and Bucky about using protection no matter what since they couldn't take the risk Darcy might become pregnant.

Bruce hadn't fared much better than Darcy. She had seen his discomfort, though Darcy wasn't certain if it had more to do with topic or with the fact that Natasha was still upset with him.

All of this was Hydra's fault.

"I can handle this part by myself, Tasha," she had tried to protest but the ex-Russian had shot her a quelling look.

"You _all _need to take precautions. None of this can be left to chance."

By that point, Darcy had been at her limit. It was humiliating and frustrating and she could feel panic trying to get the better of her. There had been more than enough to deal with already this morning. She had completely ignored Tasha's raised eyebrow of doom and walked right out of the apartment. No one had tried to stop her.

She was sure her boys were getting more instructions from Bruce now that she was out of earshot but she didn't care. They had been helping her shoulder the burden of this mess from the very beginning. They wouldn't stop now. She was grateful for their help (and she would be showing her gratitude later in creative ways), but for now she needed space.

For a while she had wandered, though not far. She was still in her sweatpants, socks, tank top, and one of Steve's hoodies. Not exactly an outfit she was planning on walking outside in.

She avoided the others, and her own apartment. She was off kilter. Disturbed and shaken in a way she couldn't quite pin down. The rooms she strolled through, while spacious, suddenly seemed claustrophobic. She needed air. Fresh, unfiltered, New York air. The balcony off the common floor became her goal.

The wind was cool on her face. The pressure of unfallen rain in the air. She welcomed the storm. It felt freeing. She had always loved storms. The lightning and thunder. Loved the chaos of it, then how the whole world felt sharper and cleaner when it passed.

She was leaning back in one of the lounge chairs, while fine mist sprayed over her face, when Thor joined her.

He said nothing at first, simply dropped into a seat beside her.

"You doing this, big guy," she asked without turning her head.

"No," he replied. She could hear the smile in his voice. "This is solely nature's doing. The natural course of the world."

The silence stretched between them. Companionable. Being with Thor was always easy. He never seemed to judge, and he had moments of wisdom that served to remind her that he was technically the oldest among them. His insights that surprised most people because he acted like a big dork more often than not.

Watching lightning flash in the distance, she couldn't help but give voice to a thought rolling around in her brain. "I don't want to be a hero." When he said nothing, she elaborated. "I mean, nothing against you. You're awesome. Mighty, even. But I am a mess."

He was watching her now. She could see in periphery. His face wrinkled with concern. "What brought on this, little sister?"

"Hydra left me with a present. I'm sure someone has mentioned it by now." He nodded. "I think the serum is changing me." As the words met the mist of the air, she knew that was the crux of the unsettledness inside her. She didn't want to change anymore. She had finally felt that she was finding her balance again. Now this.

"I have always had my strength," he told her in that quiet voice he used when he turned serious. "When I was banished to Midgard and first met you, I was lost without that strength. Yet I was still myself. For you, perhaps it is different. Will gaining some new gift diminish those you already have?"

"Well if you say it like that...No." She shifted in her seat, curling into herself. Wrapping her hands around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. she looked out at the city skyline and tried to put her thoughts in order. "I'm just afraid that if I do get some kind of superpower everyone will want me to use it for the 'greater good' and all that jazz. And I definitely can't handle that kind of responsibility. I can barely manage my own crazy."

Thor gave her words due contemplation. When he finally spoke, she turned her head to see the concern in his big puppy eyes. "Do you believe that any of us would want you in combat?"

She tried to picture Steve or Bucky or even Natasha demanding she join in to battle whatever villain popped up. The mental image wouldn't even form. "Maybe not."

"You are our home, little one. The keeper of our hearth fire. I could not see you as anything other than what you were meant to be. If you gain new power from the trials you have undergone, it will not mean having to change yourself. It will be only another layer to who you already are."

She was not getting choked up. No way. No how. Okay….maybe a little. "You're the best god I know," she told him as she discreetly wiped at her eyes.

"And you are best lightning sister I could have asked for."

She rolled her eyes at that. "I don't think you asked for me to taze you."

His big booming laugh rivaled the thunder in the sky. "True, but I would not wish to be given a different fate."

Lightning struck closer this time, and the misty droplets began to grow more substantial.

"Time to get inside," he instructed, rising and holding out a hand to assist her as well. "Your partners would not be pleased if I allowed you to fall ill."


	24. Chapter 24

Thor's little pep talk had done her a world of good. His sincere and simple words had cut through the fog of her worry with ease. She felt buoyed by the knowledge that no matter what happened she would still be herself: a coffee-addicted, polyamorous, sarcastic woman who could claim the world's mightiest heroes as her friends. Not a bad summation, she thought to herself with a smile as she rode the elevator back to the apartment.

When she arrived, she found Natasha and Bruce had already disappeared,their cautionary instructions finished. Her men were sitting on the couch, affecting casual postures that were far from convincing. Standing for a moment, taking in the sight of them, she felt happiness bubbling in her chest. She didn't know what she had done to deserve them or how long the universe would let her keep them, but she was grateful for this time.

They both observed her carefully, obviously trying to read her mood before they spoke. Smart, considering the mood swings she had been subjecting everyone to recently.

Coming closer, she plopped down onto the couch between them. Her hands were half hidden in the sleeves of Steve's hoodie and she played with the edges of the fabric for a moment before speaking. "I'm sorry," she finally announced, with a humorless smile.

"You've got nothing to-" Steve began, but a look from her had her his mouth snapping shut.

She graced them both with an apologetic expression before continuing. "I'm sorry for avoiding all this...stuff. But I want you both to know that I...appreciate how much you've been doing for me. You two are the best thing I'm had in my life...in a long time." Bucky's metal hand wrapped around hers in solidarity. Steve had that same tender look in his eyes as when he had first told her he loved her. It was way past time for her to do the same.

While she had been recuperating, trapped in the hospital bed, there had been many conversations between the three of them. Talks about their pasts, about their desires and dreams. One evening, tongue freer due to the painkillers, she had shared with them about her family history. A lengthier version than she had given Bruce and Natasha. The version that included how she had been more of a breathing doll than a daughter to her mother; how her father had never been sober enough to bother knowing more about her than her name. The one where her Aunt had made her a whipping boy (metaphorically) for her cousin's sin. The one where the only person she had loved like family (pre-Jane) had abandoned her (unitentionally) mere days after she had expressed how much he meant to her.

Though she hadn't spelled out her issues in detail, she knew they both were able to read between the lines. They understood her reluctance to say those three little words.

Sure she could say them to Jarvis, or declare it to her coffee. But when it was someone who could rip her apart when they walked away, it was much harder.

But she was ready for this. She could do it.

"I need you both to know that I -"

Firm lips on hers stopped her words. Steve was leaning into her, his natural heat swamping her. He pulled back only a bare breath to smile. "Shut up, okay?"

A little shocked by the ever respectful Captain telling her to 'shut up' her mouth fell open. The tactician in Steve took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside, while his nimble fingers drew the hoodie's zipper down. Not to be outdone, Bucky slid off the couch and positioned himself between her knees, his large hands on her running up her thighs, leaving a wake of warmth. A shiver went through her as his fingers looped in the band of her sweatpants and began tugging them down.

Ever adaptable, Darcy chuckled low in her throat and responded without reservation. She would tell them later. For now there were other activities that needed attending to.

* * *

Two days later, Darcy was still trying to figure out how to tell her men those three little-huge-serious words when she suddenly felt like she was going to burst out of her skin.

She had been warned, of course, about the symptoms of overstimulation from the Hydra-brand viagra she had been roofied with. The ever bashful Bruce had explained in excruciating detail what to do when she began to feel strange. That had not been satisfactory for some of the Avengers, however. Nearly everyone had felt compelled to add their two cents. Even Maria. Which had, honestly, been highly uncomfortable. Especially when the ex-Deputy Director had informed her that Jarvis _already_ had a "sex pollen protocol" in place which would be exactly what they needed for her current predicament.

Once the shock had worn off from that particular revelation, Darcy had gone to the one person she knew wouldn't be afraid to be blunt with her about any sexcapades she had missed. In fact, he would probably be thrilled to provided the information along with visual aids. "Tony! What exactly were you all up to while I was away? I mean, besides creating robots of death and all. Were there orgies that I wasn't invited to? Because that's majorly rude. I'm great at orgies." The genius had rolled his eyes, but refused to give her any more info. Apparently Pepper had threatened him in some undisclosed way which kept the normally talkative man from spilling the beans on why a sex pollen protocol had been needed in the first place.

Darcy had eventually shrugged it off and relegated it to the mental box marked 'life's little mysteries".

She had gone back to working in the labs (on "light duties"). She was also back in charge of nightly dinners (mostly planning not the prep). Everyone else had been eager to help with the actual cooking portion. Sam had informed her that only she was allowed to make the baked goods though. Apparently, Clint's attempts while she had been gone had not gone well.

Sitting at her usual spot in Jane's lab, going over the grocery list for the week, a strange shiver ran up her spine. It wasn't a chill. This was something else. Easy to ignore at first. In fact, she hadn't even noticed her body heating up until sweat began to bead on her brow. The list in front of her blurred slightly as sweat ran down into in her eyes behind her glasses. She snatched them off, the plastic frames irritating where they rested against her head.

Her skin felt too tight, like she had developed a sunburn from the lab lighting alone. Her clothes were uncomfortable, restricting. She felt wrong.

For a moment, panic woke in the forefront of her mind. A single shaky breath passed through her lips. Then memory kicked in with the answer. Sex stimulant.

_Oh crap_.

Darcy was fairly certain that she should feel embarrassed or scared or something other than a dark thrill. Yet the sensory overload from her body clouded everything besides adrenaline, the rush of need. The urge to rub against the nearest warm body. She wanted to rake and bite and claw and scream. She wanted to take and be taken.

The fabric of her bra chafed against her hardened nipples with every breath she took. The cute cotton boyshorts she wore beneath her jeans were dampening between her legs.

She launched out of her chair, completely ignoring Jane's concerned voice behind her, as she sped out the door.

"Jarvis?"

The AI needed no more prompting than that. "Captain Rogers is on the common floor. Sergeant Barnes is not on premise."

Darcy could feel rational thought drowning in the haze of hormones. She let it go without a fight. This feeling was overwhelming but it made her feel powerful. She craved. She hungered. Her appetite was only growing.

However, she did have one fleeting thought about how Steve had better be ready because she was coming.

* * *

Steve was, in fact, considering going down to check on Darcy when the elevator opened revealing her. A smile of greeting began as he stood, until her appearance caught up with his brain. She was flushed and wild-eyed, her shirt rucked up on one side as if she had been pulling on it. When her eyes alighted on him, her tongue peeked out and made a slow glide across her lush lips.

He was instantly on alert, even as he felt the punch of want in his gut. "Darcy? You okay, sweetheart?"

The grin she gave was one part cunning and two parts desperate. Predatory. She didn't answer with words. Her small moan of desire said enough.

Now Steve had always found her enticing and intriguing, but the way her hips swayed as she stalked toward him made his lower parts sit up and take notice. The look in her eyes was a greedy lust that stirred an answering carnal desire in him. He took two steps forward, before forcing himself to stop. He had to keep a level head here. They were out in the open. While lost in the craving she was currently feeling she might not care, but he knew she would care when she was back in her right mind.

She was closer now. Close enough that when she dropped her voice to a whisper, he felt like she had sucked them into their own little world. "I need you. Please."

The please nearly undid him. There was curse on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down. "Let's go upstairs, sweetheart," he said, as he tried to steer her back to the elevator with one hand on her arm.

It didn't go exactly how he planned. The moment he touched her, she leeched onto him. Her hands on his shoulders, one leg lifting over his hip. His hands grabbed at her hips to keep her steady. She only took his move as encouragement and jumped up, forcing him to carry her.

Their new position gave her the opportunity to assault his lips with her own. He surrendered to it easily, enduring her explorations while his hands clenched on her ass. Her body writhed against his, pressing her mound against his groin.

Shit.

He had to get them upstairs. Now. Before he gave in and took her right here on the communal couch. He drew back enough to glance over her shoulder and check for anything he might trip on. She protested his movement with a whimper. It was a noise he was familiar with. A pleading sound she made in their bed when she needed more but was too far gone to articulate it.

"Shh. Its okay baby. I promise I'll take care of you. We just have to get upstairs first."

Either she understood what he said (which he doubted, going by the unfocused look in her eyes) or the motion of his steps was distracting her. No matter which it was she quieted enough to let him get them to the elevator.

"Jarvis," he called once the doors slid shut.

"The privacy protocols have been activated, Captain Rogers. Everyone has been informed to keep their distance and security has been increased. Is there any else I can do to assist?"

"Call Bucky. Tell him to get his ass home immediately." He was going to say more than that, give some further instruction.

However, Darcy ran her tongue over the shell of his ear and completely derailed his thoughts. Her breath was hot on his neck when she moved downward to lick. Long strokes of her tongue over his muscles had him groaning.

"You're killing me. One more minute, Darcy. One more minute and we'll be home."

Her fingers carded through his hair as she kissed along his jawline and found her way back to his mouth.

"Now," she demanded as she smashed her lips against his.

Steve threw a thanks to the heavens when the elevator doors opened. He stumbled a few steps into the apartment, but kept from falling.

Darcy was already sliding off him, having decided that she couldn't get to more of his skin unless she did. He tried to slow her down. Tried valiantly to keep his head. But she was slippery and determined. She had her clothes off and his pants undone before he could gain the upper hand.

Grabbing her wrists, he held her in place. "Stop," he commanded, drawing on his Captain America voice. She stilled momentarily but he knew it wouldn't last. "Go into the bedroom. I'll be right behind you and I promise I'll make you feel good, sweetheart."

Something in his tone must have reached her because she gave a small nod and took a small step back. He kept hold of her wrists for a second longer to make sure she was really obeying before he released her.

As he watched her slip around the corner into the hall, he blew out a hard breath and ran a over his hair. He was quite willing to give her whatever she needed, but they had to take precautions. He hadn't been prepared for her urgency. They would have to be better equipped in the future.

Toeing off his shoes, he followed after her.

She was spread out on the bed like an offering or a temptation when he stepped into the room. Pausing in the doorway, he couldn't help but appreciate that she was here, safe and in their bed. He knew she didn't really care about words right now, but he couldn't hold them in. "You're gorgeous, Darcy. So beautiful."

The smile that bloomed was pure sin. Steve felt his face mirror it.

Oh yeah. He had no problem giving her whatever she needed.

* * *

Darcy wasn't really sure what time it was when she felt higher brain function returning. She remembered everything that had happened with startlingly clarity though. She even remembered the part where Bucky had finally gotten in, and Steve had "tapped out". Literally.

"Oh my god. I broke Captain America," she told the ceiling, from her position sprawled on her back.

A deep chuckle sounded from her left. "I think broke is a strong word, doll. You certainly tired him out though. He's in the shower now, cooling off."

"Awesome." If her smile was self-satisfied, Bucky didn't comment. He did move close and press a soft kiss to her lips. "I didn't break you yet though," she commented when he pulled away.

One brow raised at that, as he looked down on her, his devilish smirk starting to appear. "Yet? You sound like that's the goal."

"Of course, soldier. You've always got to have goals," she informed him as she put her hands on his chest and tweaked his nipple. His stern look did nothing to deter her from letting her hands wander.

"You need to rest," he tried to tell her.

She laughed right in his face, pushing at him until he rolled onto his back and she was straddling his hips. "Pretty sure I don't. I feel great." Grabbing his hands, she laid his palms against her skin. "Don't you agree?"

Bucky's answer was loud and clear….and hard, pressing against her from between his legs. His groan was only half frustrated as he shifted them. Grabbing a condom, he rolled it on before giving her exactly what she was aiming for. "You," he informed her, once she was seated comfortably, "are trouble with a capital T."

* * *

After that, it became a pattern. When the desire began to cloud her mind (which was often), she would seek them out. Or have Jarvis call for them. (Since the first day, they had both confined themselves to the Tower so they were close at hand.) Every night after dinner, she accosted them until her body was exhausted. In the middle of the day, she would track them down and get a quickie in the nearest semi-secluded space.

Of course this did make for some interesting times.

Somehow (and that part was a little fuzzy) Darcy pushed Steve far enough that he gave in and tossed her down on the couch in Jane's lab to have his wicked way with her. The couch itself faced away from the glass wall that divided the lab from the hall. Thus Darcy was safely out of sight when Tony walked by and saw a full frontal of the all American glory that was naked Steve. At the time, neither of them had noticed his presence. However, a few hours later the billionaire had found Darcy in the kitchen.

"I think I might be a little gay," he announced, as he snatched a not-quite-cool cookie from the tray she was holding. He bounced it from hand to hand while she studied him.

"Are you coming out to me, Tony," she asked as she scooped up another cookie and deposited on the cooling rack. "Because I have to say I'm honored and all, but Pepper should probably being hearing this first."

"Oh you're funny, Lewis. And no I'm not coming out. I don't think I am at least. I'm more like peeking in. And it's a great view. Spectacular." His smile was lecherous.

It only took a moment for Darcy to put it together. "You saw us."

"Don't go prude on me, Lewis. I didn't see you. Just Captain Wonder Abs. Can I just say congratulations? I mean_really_. Well done."

Darcy knew that neither Steve or Bucky would not find Tony's banter amusing. But Steve wasn't here and neither was Bucky. A triumphant smile pulled at her lips. "Thank you."

"Oh no. Thank you," he retorted with an eyebrow wiggle before striding out with his trademark swagger.

* * *

Darcy Lewis. Sex addict.

She felt like she needed to make up cards. Or maybe t-shirts.

It had been five amazing days and still the stimulant was going strong. It was getting easier to maintain at least a semblance of rational thought though, which she assumed meant it was beginning to back off.

It felt like she had been in every position imaginable. Even some she hadn't imagined. She knew she should probably be sore, but she wasn't. Not where it counted anyway. The rest of her was tired though. The spirit was willing but the flesh was weak.

She was laying back amongst the pillows on the bed, resting...and watching her two men argue about dinner options. It was a silly argument. One that shouldn't have gotten either of them up in arms, but sometimes men were as hormonal as they claimed women to be. (It was only a matter of testosterone versus estrogen.) Not that she was going to pitch that theory to either of her men at the moment.

"No, jerk. We've already had pizza twice this week." Steve was of the opinion that they need to be eating healthier food since they were expending so much energy during sex.

Bucky was of a different mind. "Listen, punk. Calories. We need calories, not rabbit food."

The two men leaned toward each other, on the precipice of snarling in each other's faces. Being the woman in the relationship, Darcy had the fleeting thought that maybe she should be trying to calm them down or get them to back off. She didn't though. This was fascinating. Part of her, the evil-minded minx that had awakened for the first time since freshman year, wanted them to tear it up. She knew they wouldn't really hurt each other. More than likely it would all end in delicious angry sex.

Her whole body clenched in anticipation.

She must have made some kind of noise as two sets of eyes were suddenly on her. "Don't mind me," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Do continue." Their identical furrowed brows were adorable. "Seriously. Continue. I'm very interested to see who ends up on top."

They glanced at each other, standing unabashedly naked at the end of the bed, before turning back to her.

"This isn't foreplay," Bucky said with a completely straight-face.

Aw, he really believes that, she thought amusedly. "Sure," she replied, drawing out the word. "We can call it whatever helps you sleep better, baby."

"It isn't," Steve added earnestly.

She couldn't help the scoff. "Please. You both have been spending all your time with me. You need to have a little 'man-time' too. I get it. But, if both of you want to pretend like you aren't itching to take each other down, I'll play ball." Pulling the sheet up to her cover her breasts she snuggled back against the pillows, a smirk playing along her lips.

When they continued to stand there staring at her, she motioned with both her hands for them to continue. "Go on. Let's see who wins this 'argument'." She barely refrained from forming the air quotes with her fingers.

Bucky turned away from her first, eyeing Steve speculatively. "She might be right, punk."

That had Steve's gaze whipping away from her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Now we're getting somewhere, Darcy thought with a bit of self-satisfaction.

Their bodies crashed together roughly,hard enough that Darcy almost winced. The majority of the sex between the three of them had been a bit rough lately, but she definitely wasn't up to the level that her two super-soldiers could play at. Darcy was reminded sharply of all those times she had watched them training in the gym. She would have to ask later if they'd come back to the bedroom after those sessions.

But that was for later.

Right now, there were two smoking hot models of male perfection battling for dominance at the foot of the bed. No time to be distracted.

Later, when the boys were on round three and her body began heating again, she pulled the sheet back down. Slowly spreading her legs, she found her own release as Steve "won" once more. It had gone down 2-1, but no one in the room was really a loser.

When she caught her breath and the men collapsed over the foot of the bed, she couldn't prevent her tongue from remarking. "Definitely a win for the whole team."

The laughter that filled the air warmed her in a way that had nothing to do with her libido.

* * *

Besides the increased libido, and consequently far more personal breaks, Darcy was back to normal duties. That was why Bucky knew he would find her on the common floor doing her cleaning routine when he went looking.

It was amazing how quickly she had fallen back into her old rhythms. Their girl was a fighter. She wasn't going to let Hydra keep her down.

As predicted, she was dancing around with a rag hanging out the back of her jeans, headphones firmly in place. She didn't notice him at first, which he didn't mind. He simply crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, watching her. Her hips swayed and twisted in a way that brought to mind how she had ridden him last night.

That fast he could feel himself hardening. Fuck.

It would have been logical to think that after all the sex they'd had in the past week, he would be tired out. Or bored. The opposite seemed to be proving true.

He couldn't go five minutes in her presence without wanting her. Without needing to feel her skin or taste her lips. Maybe Darcy wasn't the only one Hydra had spiked with their stimulant.

He knew it wasn't true, but it certainly felt like it at moments. Like now.

Pushing off the wall, he patted him back pocket to make sure he had protection. Steve and himself had been determined not to put her at risk. Amazingly, they hadn't forgotten a single time.

With how many condoms they were going through, Stark had joked that he was going to buy stock in the prophylactics. Bucky had refrained from punching him in the face, though the plates of his arm had shifted menacingly. Stark had gotten the message and hurriedly backed off.

Watching Darcy's body, Bucky could see her movements slowing, becoming more sensual. The stimulant was decreasing incrementally, but it wasn't quite gone. Today had been the longest she had gone without calling for one of them. It had been what prompted him to go looking.

She gave a little whimper that she probably wasn't even aware of as her hands ran up her torso and over her breasts. Christ. She was killing him and she didn't even know he was in the room.

To preserve his sanity, he stepped up behind her and wrapped his hands around her hips. She didn't startle. Instead, she pressed back against him and gave another one of those throaty whimpers.

"Jarvis," he called, as he slid his hands beneath the edge of her shirt.

"Protocol initiated, Sergeant Barnes," the AI intoned.

"Thanks," Bucky said distractedly. His attention was all on the way Darcy was moving against him, the feel of her skin underneath his palms, those incredibly sexy noises of encouragement she made.

He snatched her headphones off, pulling her iPod from her pocket in the process. She made no protest, far too invested in what was to come to worry about her electronics.

Together they made quick work of their clothes. He kept her turned away from him the whole time. She squirmed in his grasp, but he refused to allow the movement. Over the last week, Bucky had learned that if you let her have even an inch she would take control completely. Not that he was complaining. Not in the least. But he knew she liked it as much if not better when Steve or himself took charge. Which meant if he wanted this encounter to go his way, he couldn't let her get a hand on him.

He forced her forward until she was mere inches away from the plated glass, her breath causing a tiny spot of fog. He grabbed her hands, forcing them above her head, palms flat on the cool surface. "Don't move," he commanded, his voice nearly a growl.

She chuckled darkly. "Kinky, soldier."

He hesitated and she must have felt it for she threw him a look over her shoulder. "Not a complaint. I definitely approve." Her hips undulated, attempting to rub against him. To tease. "Red is my safeword," she said with a smirk.

"Fuck," he ground out. He didn't know if she was joking or not (and he would definitely be investigating that later), but the insinuation was enough to push him over the edge. He needed to be inside her.

Protection. He pushed away from her with a groan. Snagging his pants, he had the package open and the contents wrapped around himself as fast as he was able.

Returning to the wonderland that was Darcy's heated flesh, he ran his hands down her back and over that tempting ass. "You ready, doll?"

"Yes!" It was as much demand as answer.

Dragging her hips with bruising force, he aligned them perfectly. When his metal hand slid around and between her folds, he was rewarded with a keening cry from her lips.

"That's it, darlin'," he encouraged. "Give me everything."

A tremor raked through her body as she did.

* * *

Darcy admitted that what had just happened against the glass of the common room window was fairly cliched. But fuck if it didn't grind her gears regardless.

Ever the gentleman, Bucky helped her pull herself back together before sauntering off, whistling merrily. She should probably take offense at his smug expression, but she couldn't. He had definitely earned it.

As she bent to retrieve her discarded iPod, the grate on the vent in the corner opened. Barton swung out easily, landing on his feet with barely a sound. He stood silently for a moment, assessing her.

She nodded to him in greeting, noting the unreadable 'Agent face' he wore. She should probably be embarrassed that he'd played voyeur to their exhibition, but honestly she feeling shameless.

Without a word he paced forward, digging in his pocket for something. He retrieved a folded notecard. Unfolding it, he held it up revealing a big 10 in black marker when he was less than a dozen steps away.

It was immature and childish and she would totally deny it if her men ever asked, but she just had to….

Her lips quivering from a suppressed smile, Darcy held one hand aloft.

Clint's serious face cracked as he ran up to meet her for an enthusiastic high five.


	25. Chapter 25

Darcy tried not to fidget impatiently as she waited for Bruce to come back with the results from the medical tests. She was in his lab, reclining in a comfy chair facing the zen garden, trying to let the atmosphere sooth her. Soon, she would know the extent of the damage.

Her wait was solitary (not counting the bashful Bruce), as the men were out doing some kind of training exercise with the newest Avengers. Which meant, if the news was bad, at least she would have a little time to herself to hyperventilate before having to face them.

The training was taking place at the brand-spanking-new secondary base. The one that had come about after the whole Ultron affair. (Which no one had thought to mention until the boys were packing up to leave.)

Darcy hadn't gotten all the details, but Clint had mentioned Coulson had sent a liaison from SHIELD over. Plus Sam and Erik Selvig, the pantless professor (her nickname for him, not Tony's), were helping out at the new facility too. Maria was going to be splitting her time between the Tower and the new location so she could continue running SI's security (because she was a BAMF and Pepper had refused to give her up).

No one had told Darcy much about the new members that were currently residing there, other than names, but Darcy wasn't worried. (They were Avengers, right? They _had_ to be good people. It was in the job description. LIterally.) Sooner or later she would rope someone into inviting everyone up to the Tower for a team dinner and movie night to meet them all. That dinner would take definite some strategy, which she hadn't had time to come up with yet. Her culinary skill were much more suited to pastry items, and though she could do down-home cooking well she wanted something a bit more impressive for welcoming new teammates . Maybe she could talk Tony into getting his chef guy to assist, the one who had catered several of Tony's parties. The hors d'oeuvres had been to die for! Literally heaven in her mouth. Especially those little bacon-wrapped dates and the...

Her stomach growled. Loudly. Just the thought of food and the beast had woken.

Rolling her eyes, she dug out a pack of fruit snacks from her pocket of her jeans. She had been ridiculously hungry lately. Nothing seemed to appease the beast in her belly. Bruce assured her that she needed to eat when she felt hungry even if that meant scarfing down two cheeseburgers only an hour after lunch...or popping fruit snacks after having a stack of pancakes. She hadn't noticed any weight gain though (and she'd been checking). Must be all those calories burned during their marathon sexing, she thought with a contented smile.

So far, she hadn't been able to pinpoint an exact difference in herself, other than the hunger. But she felt weird. Not any stronger (She'd tested the super strength with the weights in the gym...yeah not so much). But different. Off. She had been getting headaches the last few days and loud noises aggravated them. But migraines were on her list of issues already so she didn't think the headaches counted.

There was a small _clang_ as Bruce knocked a tray over where he was puttering about by the door. It was the furthest away he could possibly be from her. It might have been a deliberate avoidance tactic. Or he could really need to be there. She couldn't tell. It really didn't mattered. She was just nervous. The only thing to distract her were the sound of the water feature, the sonata Jarvis was providing, and the patterns in the sand of the rock garden. Relaxing? Potentially. Distracting? Eh, not so much.

There was a small _whoosh_ from the lab door opening.

"How's it going," Natasha asked, her voice soft but clear. For a split second, Darcy thought the question was directed at her. That was until Bruce answered.

"She shows signs of increased healing, heightened metabolism also. But no other effects from the serum." Darcy felt the weight on her chest begin to lessen, the nervous knot in her stomach unraveling. "The stimulant is wearing off too according to what Bucky says. I asked Steve as well, but he wasn't comfortable discussing details."

"You could always share a little of we do to draw him out," she teased with a tenderness Darcy had never heard before. "You know when I use my tongue to-"

"Okay," Darcy interrupted, without turning around. "That's enough. While that answers some questions I've had for a _long_ time, I seriously don't think I can handle hearing about your sex life. It's like walking in on your parents or something." She gave an exaggerated shiver to show she was teasing.

There was a moment of silence, then Natasha spoke even more softly than before. "You can hear me?"

"Yeah. I mean I wasn't trying to eavesdrop or anything but I'm right here." She raised one hand to point out her location.

Footsteps approached slowly. The pair came around to face her, trepidation clear in their expressions.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that? Was I not supposed to know about the sex thing? I will totally keep it a secret, Tasha. You know I won't go blabbing," she tried to reassure the assassin.

Natasha gave no response. She turned to Bruce instead and cocked a brow. The scientist dropped his gaze to the tablet in his hands. Tapping the screen, Bruce frowned. Not his I'm-uncomfortable-with-this-topic frown. This was his problem-solving frown, which he only got when he was working though a particularly involved science problem. "Darcy, what can you hear right now?"

"Your waterfall," she replied with a hint of sass.

"Concentrate, sestrenka," Natasha admonished. Her voice had that hard line Darcy had come to know meant she was concerned.

Heaving a sigh, Darcy closed her eyes and listened. A multitude of sounds assaulted her. None were the type to stir up another headache though. At least she didn't think so. The waterfall was the loudest, as it was closest. Beneath the gurgling and bubbling of the water, there was a buzzing, almost like a white noise. Her attention turned to the buzzing trying to determine what it was. A Sinatra song came into focus first and under that the staccato of tap dancing. Layered through it was a child doing a rendition of the Lincoln's famous Gettysburg address. As she sorted through them she called them out. When she opened her eyes, Bruce and Tasha were both staring.

Bruce shared another look with Natasha, but this one had the gears in her mind whirling.

Before he could speak, it clicked. "Oh. My. God. Ohmygod! I have super hearing, don't I? Do I?" She popped out of her seat like the cork from a champagne bottle. (Oh - champagne. Definitely later.)

Natasha nodded, a grin peeking out at her enthusiasm, before Darcy grabbed at her for a quick hug.

All things considered, this was probably the best possible outcome she could have hoped for. This was a safe easy super power. Not very useful for combat. Definitely not something that made her dangerous. Not flashy. Easily hidden. And the perks...

Pulling back she tried not to dance in place. (She lost that battle spectacularly.) "Oh, man. Clint is gonna be soooo pissed. I'm gonna be able to hear his sneaky ass when he tries to pull something. Please, _please_, don't tell him," she begged of them both, hands clasped before her pleadingly.

Bruce sighed and shook his head, but agreed. Natasha only smirked.

* * *

It was late evening when the good Captain finally called an end to the exercise. There were thankful expressions all around, followed by sighs of exhaustion. Even Bucky had one to share.

Once the rest of the team filed out, Bucky gave Steve a raised brow. Steve chuckled and offered an apologetic smile. "Got a little carried away again, didn't I?"

"Yeah. I know you're only trying to get us all in fighting formation. But sometimes Captain America takes over, and you become a bit of a taskmaster." Bucky pulled off his sweat-soaked shirt and wiped his brow with it.

When he pulled the shirt down from his face, his little Brooklyn punk was looking at him slyly. "Can I make it up to you? I could...wash your back."

The shower in their quarters was quite large. Large enough to comfortably fit more than two. Bucky was certain that Tony had done that on purpose when he had planned out the facility, assuming their triad would still form even while Darcy had been away.

Stalking forward, he pressed himself along Steve's frame. "That would be decent of you, Captain," he said as he laid a teasing kiss to his lips.

"I aim to please."

"Oh, you will."

After a long and _hot_ (in all meanings of the word) shower, they were lounging back on the bed. "We should check in with Darcy," Steve tossed out casually. As if he hadn't been glancing at his phone over on the coffee table every ten seconds for the last fifteen minutes.

"We only left last night," Bucky countered, though he was as anxious to hear from her as Steve. It took about three seconds for him to cave to Steve's hangdog look. "Alright, alright."

Grabbing his own cell off the bedside table, he punched up the number, setting it to speaker.

It picked up after only one ring.

Darcy's voice was breathless and happy when she greeted them with, "Hey, fellas. How are my two sweet slices of mancake?"

Bucky laughed, partly at Darcy's statement and partly at the pinking of Steve's cheeks. "Hey, doll. We're doing fine. You sound excited. What's going on in your little corner of heaven, angel," Bucky asked.

"Oh nothing much, charmer," she replied, her voice trying for casual but falling short. She was never good at hiding when she was thrilled about something. "I've got a surprise for you both when you get home. And, before you ask, it does not involve gift-wrapping myself, Barnes. That's not gonna happen no matter how much you beg."

He shared a look with Steve, noting the way his eyes were darkening with desire. "Mmm, I still think I can convince you to try it, darlin'. Maybe for Steve's birthday." Her giggle was soft but audible, as was her "keep dreaming" comment.

"You been keeping out of trouble," Steve asked.

"Of course not. But no one needed to go to medical and nothing irreplaceable has been destroyed. So I think I came out in the black today." Her carefree laughter cut down the line, assuring the both of them that she truly was fine. They hadn't been away from her this length of time since her return to the Tower.

The sour worry he had been nursing in the back of his mind all day was probably irrational, but he hadn't been able to shake it. Thankfully, he was better at hiding it than Steve, who had been wearing his worry all over his face. Relieved, he made sure to keep that particular emotion from his voice. "That's our girl. Any plans for the evening?"

There was a pause and small sounds that signalled Darcy crawling into bed. "Not really. Dinner was me and the Science Trio. Two of whom went right back to the labs. And I'm sure you can guess which ones. Since then I've been surfing the net and making chocolate chip cookies. But I think I'm done for the day. Don't want to overload my brain with too many cute cat videos."

Bucky made a pained expression. "The cats again? I still don't understand the fascination."

"Well I have to look at something cute since my two main sources of that particular vitamin are too far away." There was a pause then. The loaded kind. Thick with whatever went on in woman's mind. "When are you coming back," she asked softly, her tone tender with emotions she was likely unaware of. "I miss you."

Bucky wasn't expecting to hear the admission. The words, yes. The depth of meaning behind them, no. He saw Steve's lips curl into a sentimental smile, his eyes shining with love. They both knew very well that Darcy cared for them, but she had always been cautious with her words on the subject.

"We miss you too, baby," Steve added. "Not sure how much longer this will take, but we'll hurry."

"See that you do, Captain," she said, the more vulnerable tone wiped from her voice. This was their spitfire. "I've got plans."

After sharing their goodbyes and goodnights, Bucky disconnected the call, leaving Darcy to sleep.

"So," he began neutrally, "how soon do you think she'll be ready to see that little black box you've got tucked in your sock drawer?"

Steve's eyes narrowed. "Why am I not surprised that you know about that?"

"You've been hiding your shit in the same place since you were ten," Bucky offered with a shrug. "By now I assume you put things there you want me to find."

The blonde rolled his eyes, but still ran a hand through his hair and over the back of his neck, uncertain. "I don't know," he said in answer to the original question. "I don't want to pressure her or rush her to say something she's not ready for. And I definitely don't want to scare her away with my...enthusiasm. But I still want to do this right. I want to do right by both of you."

He knew the grin on his face was wide, but he didn't care. Sometimes Steve was just so...adorable. (God, he might have been spending too much time with Darcy if he was using words like adorable.) "Of course, you want to do this right. I never thought you'd do it any other way. And I agree. Which is why I didn't _open_ that little black box. Was sorely tempted though. Have to say I'm curious to see if you're gonna make an honest man out of me?"

The punk had the nerve to laugh, even as a blush stole up his cheeks. "That seems like a tall order. Plus I don't think I'm up to the challenge of finding something that will stand up to your brand of rough handling."

Bucky only quirked a brow. The fact that Steve had even said anything meant he'd definitely looked into it and probably already come up with a solution. "Uh huh. Whatever you say, punk."

"Jerk," Steve countered, pushing playfully at his shoulder.

His metal hand clamped around Steve's wrist. The good Captain offered no resistance as Bucky pulled him forward until their lips met. He knew they had to get up early for another day of focused training, but that charming embarrassed blush on Steve's face had to be dealt with first. He was going to wash it out with a very different kind of flush.

* * *

Two nights without Darcy had Steve itching to have her back between them.

Spending time with only Bucky had been nice, but the three of them together was always much better. Plus Steve was still feeling a bit overprotective where Darcy was concerned. Logically he knew that she was safer in the Tower than anywhere else she could possibly be. Yet, he couldn't shake his worry. He knew Bucky was feeling it too, though he was much more subtle about it.

The quinjet hadn't touched down when Steve opened the cargo door to exit. Their pilot was one of the SHIELD-Hydra debacle cast-offs that Maria had vetted when she first came to the Tower. Steve knew the man had been angling to get an invite inside, but right now he wasn't up to playing host. He wanted to see Darcy and he certainly didn't need an audience for that. Instead of having him land, Steve had instructed him to pull it in close to the balcony then he and Bucky had jumped.

When they stepped in from the balcony, Darcy was waiting with a smile and a coffee. The smell of baking bread was in the air, and there was a dusting of flour on her jeans. Steve was struck by the feeling of home.

"Seriously? Was that little stunt for my benefit," she asked as they dropped their bags and he unstrapped his shield. "Because I am not impressed. That was a lot smaller of a drop than the parachute-less jumps you did with Natasha."

Beside him, he saw Bucky tense slightly and give him a glare.

"You, uh, know about those," he queried.

"Oh yeah, big guy. Tasha told me some pretty interesting things," she informed him. She paced forward as she spoke. "You should probably kiss me to keep me from spilling any other secrets."

That was a challenge he could get behind. His hand wrapped around her neck, thumb brushing her jawline as he leaned in and complied.

When they broke apart, she turned to Bucky. "You should probably kiss me to get me to spill the rest of his secrets."

Bucky laughed and kissed her as well. He upped the ante by tracing kisses along her jaw and up to her ear, where he nibbled at the sensitive flesh. Darcy leaned into him, unconsciously seeking more. When Bucky raised his head, he had a brow lifted in challenge. Of course, Darcy caught the look and slapped his chest.

"Boys," she said with mock exasperation, though it was easy to see the laughter in her smile.

As she turned away to top off her coffee, Bucky cut a sharp glance his way that clearly stated they would be talking about the parachute thing later.

"So I've got some news for you," Darcy said turning to face them away. She was bouncing on her toes as if she'd had too much caffeine, though he didn't think that was truly the cause. She began talking in that rapid-fire way that spoke of nerves more than how caffeinated her blood was. "Which I'm excited to share. Not in a like I'm-excited-about-that-new-movie way. This is more like a I-might-throw-up-because-there's-a-herd-of-butterflies-in-my-stomach excited. Wait. Do butterflies herd? I think they flock. Anyway. Overall I think it's a good thing, but maybe you won't think so. Part of it is really good and I don't think you'll have any complaints but-"

Steve knew the best way to shut her up was to give her lips something else to focus on. Namely his own. He pressed against her firmly, tongue demanding entrance to her sweet mouth, his hands tight on her biceps as he steered her toward the couch. Bucky came in the for the assist by grabbing her hot coffee before it could spill over both of them. He only stopped when the back of her knees hit the edge of the cushions.

Her eyes were sparkling when she looked up at him. "Definitely more of that later, Captain."

"Yes, ma'am," he promised.

"First, you need to sit down, darlin'," Bucky instructed.

Without further prompting, she flopped down into the middle seat. They took the seats on either side, Steve placing a hand on her thigh, and Bucky laying his arms across the back of the couch behind her, to keep her from bouncing away. Her behavior was definitely due to nerves, but she wasn't panicking. And the tension eased slightly at their touch. "Bruce did some tests," she began. "Turns out Hydra's little gift basket in my bloodstream has left me with a few permanent changes. First off, the grocery bill is going to get a bit bigger. I apparently have a metabolism to match you two. But it comes with the bonus of increased healing, so I can't complain."

Steve felt a wave of relief flow through him. Thank God. It was another layer of protection, since she couldn't be expected to stay in the confines of the Tower forever. Nor would they always be around to protect her. Should she ever be injured, even critically, it could save her life. For the first time in his existence, he felt a smidgen of gratefulness to Hydra. It was due to them that Darcy would have this gift. He knew it was her sheer strength that had kept Hydra from getting what they truly wanted, and he knew the bastards would be the first to take advantage of this new development as well.

"That's all good news, sweetheart. We both know how to feed increased appetites. No need to worry about that."

"There is one more thing," she said carefully, without looking at either of them. "I also ended up with an...enhancement."

Steve remained deceptively lax. Whatever it was they could deal with it. If Darcy wasn't panicking then there was no reason for him to either.

"I can hear everything now. Everything. Your heartbeats and your breath. The buzz of the electricity in the walls. It's a bit overwhelming if I concentrate on it, and I keep getting headaches. Tasha's working with me to figure out how to filter through it. And If I'm not thinking about it I don't really feel much of a difference. I feel normal." The last word was coated with a tentative fear even Steve could read.

"I guess that means we can't surprise you anymore," Bucky said with a smirk.

Darcy's head came up and she smiled, traces of relief in her eyes. "I think you both will always surprise me, but you won't be able to sneak up on me anymore that's for sure."

Darcy never came right out and said why she had been fearful of their reaction, but he had known her for long enough that he knew she would never purposely put her insecurities on display if she could help it. And he knew she had them. Their girl was a firecracker, but she still had those spots of vulnerability like they all did. Eventually, much later, through off-handed comments and quips, he was able to put it together. She had been afraid that having a power meant they weren't going to see her the same way. That they were going to throw her onto the Avengers roster and eventually only see her as a teammate. That they wouldn't love her anymore if she wasn't 'normal'.

When he came to the realization, he took the time to ease her fears by seducing her. He took her apart with reverence and patience, whispering to her all the things that had made him love her. He told her he wanted to hold her to his side for all time, that he would never let go. When she was lost in the haze of sweet touches and soft words, he laced his fingers through hers and swore again that he loved her. He repeated it over and over until her body exploded beneath him.

It hadn't been the first time it had only been the two of them, but it was certainly the sweetest. Afterwards, the self-depreciating comments ended, and Darcy would smile without a trace of concern in her eyes when they talked about her new abilities.

Bucky noticed immediately. His response was to punch Steve in the shoulder companionably then give a very commendation of "Good job, punk."

* * *

It was a Tuesday when the rest of the team finally figured about her new "gifts". Darcy had been finishing up cooking dinner in the common kitchen when a noise startled her. The (extremely) sharp knife sliced into her finger, nearly down to the bone.

The knife clattered to the floor as she tried to suck in a breath and grabbed at her finger to keep the wound semi-closed. The air stuck in her lungs for a moment while her body processed the shock. Then she let loose with every expletive she knew while grabbing a dishrag to wrap around the injury and contain the blood.

After running through her very creative list, she went to the doorway and focused her gaze on the specific vent where she knew Clint was hiding. "Get the fuck out here Barton. Christ! You're supposed to be a superspy right? How come you're so goddamn noisy then?" Anger had her voice sharp.

There was a moment of silence where the typically talkative Clint was nonplussed. Then the vent opened and Clint crawled out. "How did you-" he began, but the sight of the blood staining the dishrag derailed him. "What happened?"

"I sliced my hand open, thanks to you."

"To me?"

Darcy didn't get a chance to respond as the elevator opened revealing the whole gang sans Sam and Jane. (Jane was off on some science conference and Sam was staying at the new facility full time.)

Of course, Bucky spotted the blood right off and was at her side in an instant. Steve was right behind.

"What happened," he said as he gently drew the cloth away from her to get a better look.

"I'm fine," she grumbled, her anger beginning to dissipate. The edges of the cut were already starting to close, but it was still bleeding. Bucky re-wrapped her finger gently. "Clint startled me and I cut myself."

Bucky turned his icy glare on the archer, who threw up his hands. "Hold up. Its not like what you're thinking. In fact, I'm not even sure what it is. I wouldn't jump out and scare her while she was using sharp implements. That's hazardous to everyone's health. Mine included. I was being very quiet so I don't see how this is my fault."

"You weren't being quiet," Darcy argued. "I heard you. Even over the white noise thing that Jarvis was doing for me. Which means that you were being loud."

Clint opened his mouth to argue, but Tony got there first. "What white noise thing? Jarvis, you're providing the lady with white noise? Is the soundproofing in the walls not working?"

"The soundproofing is working within normal ranges, Sir. The white noise is to help compensate for Darcy's new abilities so that she might have some peace. I was happy to provide what I could."

All eyes were on Darcy now.

"Something you want to share with the class, Lewis," Tony asked.

"Um...maybe." Only three of them didn't know yet. Thor, Tony, and Clint were each looking at her expectantly. "I may have picked up some new tricks," she offered.

"That is not gonna cut it, kid," Clint said. "Especially after almost getting skewered by your boyfriend for supposedly being at fault for your accident."

_Buzz. _ The oven timer went off announcing the dinner rolls were done. Saved by the bell, she thought.

"Okay, can we do this after I finish getting dinner together? You can totally interrogate me then."

"No one's going to interrogate you," Steve stated firmly fixing both Tony and Clint with hard looks. Evidently, he wasn't concerned about Thor.

When everything was on the table and the inhabitants were quietly eating, Darcy finally gave in to the silent questioning stare Clint had been giving her as he shoveled the baked ziti into his mouth. Setting down her fork brought everyone's attention to her. Her announcement brought various reactions including much skepticism. The next hour was sent having the range of her abilities tested by Clint and Tony. When they were through she could tell that Tony's mind was already whirling with possibilities.

When his mouth opened, Darcy held up a hand. "No."

"But-"

"No. Whatever you're thinking. No. I'm not an Avenger, nor do I plan on signing up. The only role I would ever fit would be bait, and I'm not up for that."

Tony didn't argue further right then, but she could tell the battle was far from over.

The next day, there was an email from Tony with specs on a whole new taser with attachments much like Natasha's Widow Bites. She **_politely_** responded with a seventy-two size font "No"...and a picture of Grumpy Cat.

Then came Clint's move. Printouts of costume designs began appearing on her desk in Jane's lab and the kitchen counter and her apartment (when she bothered to go there). She waited until Clint was watching from his perch to shred each and every one.

She knew that all these things are making the boys nervous, but they were very careful not to pressure her one way or the other. Even if it was obvious they didn't want her involved in anything dangerous.

Natasha graced Tony with her terrifying frowny face when she caught Darcy yelling at him down the hall. "No, Tony! I do not need elastic kevlar for_any_ of my clothing, let alone my bra." Yet Tasha didn't offer any advice on the subject either.

Realistically she knew that her new 'power' would be useful for a spy or a scout for the team, but she readily admitted that she is not that girl. Like she had told them at dinner, the best role she could play would be bait.

The tipping point came when she found her social media pages had been changed. "God damnit, Barton," she shrieked. "Stop changing my name to Violet Shock online. I said _no_. Besides what the hell does that have to do with enhanced hearing anyway?"

Clint scurried off before she could retaliate in any other way, but some twenty minutes later Natasha cornered her for a training session. Ugh. "Barton put you up to this didn't he," she questioned even as she followed the older woman into the gym.

Smirking Natasha shrugged. "He may have mentioned that you might need to burn off some excess anger."

"Of course, he did," she said as she yanked off her shirt and began changing into her workout gear in the locker room. "He wants me exhausted so I can't enact revenge. He thinks I won't be able to plan anything good while I'm tired." She smiled evilly as she pulled her socks on.

"I get the feeling you already have something planned," Natasha said as she leaned against her locker and watched.

Darcy tried for an innocent face while she began to lace her sneakers. "Little 'ole me. No. I'm just a civilian. There's no way that I would already have a half dozen plans uploaded to Jarvis." She finished off the knot on her second shoe and stood from the bench. "Or that all I'd need to enact one is to say - Jarvis, could you start the Little Black Cloud protocol?"

"Indeed, Darcy. Shall I record the outcomes and send the video to your tablet?"

"You read my mind, buddy."

Natasha actually laughed as she straightened and headed for the mats. "I would like to request a copy as well," she told the AI.

"I will be happy to provide one, Miss Romanov," he said.

A short time later, Darcy was sweating like it was her job and Natasha looked as serene as always. Taking in her red face and panting, Tasha mercifully called a ten minute break. Collapsing to the ground to do her starfish impression, Darcy took deep breaths. She had gotten the inkling that Natasha was pushing her much harder than normal. And that maybe it was due to the new powers. Which prompted Darcy to ask a question that had been burning at her for a few days. "Tasha, what do you think about" she waved a hand to encompass herself, "all this?"

Though the question could very easily be misconstrued, Natasha took it for what it meant and gave her blunt honesty in response. "I don't like it. I'm happy that you are all right and grateful that ended up with things that can be easily hidden. But I don't want to see you doing anything like we do. I would prefer you never enter the field as a combatant. But….you care about people. You adopted everyone here." Darcy opened her mouth, but Natasha rode right over her. "No, don't try to deny it. We may not have noticed how deeply entrenched you were until you were gone, but we did notice. If a situation arose, where your new skills were needed, you would jump in with both feet no matter what protests Steve or Bucky or myself gave."

She sighed and gracefully sank to the floor beside Darcy. "I didn't come to be who I am now because I cared. At least not at first. My first motivation was for myself. Then for redemption. There are a few of us here who are seeking redemption still. You aren't like that. Your first thought is to fill the holes in other's lives. Tony may have provided this space for us, but you made it a home."

Darcy could feel the tears rising, but she still smiled. Natasha took her hand and pulled her into a sitting position so that they were facing each other. "This is your home, Darcy, and I believe that if anyone ever threatened it you would defend it as fiercely as any of us."

Somehow Darcy found her words behind the lump of emotion in her throat. "Damn straight."

Natasha laughed and stood in one smooth motion before reaching down to drag Darcy up as well. "Which is why you and I are going to put more focus into your training."

Darcy gave a good-natured groan.

* * *

Back at the apartment, Darcy couldn't sit still. Natasha's words kept circling in her head. _"__This is your home, Darcy…"_

It was. These people were her home. This crazy place with it's omnipotent AI and heroes and billionaires and geniuses and ex-assassins. She was sure that this time the universe wasn't going to demand any payment for her good fortune. Dealing with Stark and Barton were enough payment some days.

She found herself in the kitchen, a vague plan taking shape in her mind. It was far past time that she fessed up to the commitment she had already made in her heart. The boys deserved to know that she loved them.

Time to set the scene.

Two hours later and Darcy was putting the finishing touches on dinner. There were candles on every available surface and the lights were so dim they might as well be off. She'd had to call the girls for reinforcements for the romantic lighting though. No way she had enough to furnish this space. Natasha, Jane, Pepper, and even Maria had dropped by with all the candles they owned. There were a line of pillar candles in the hall. Jars on the kitchen counter. Tapers on the dining table. Floating candles dominated the tables in the living room. The bedroom was done in votives in dozens of matching containers (courtesy Pepper).

It may have been a bit overdone honestly, but she figured they were both old fashioned enough to appreciate the seduction attempt. Besides she was fairly certain she would do something awkward or to be exact her mouth would, so every little bit of help she could get to set the mood from other sources was necessary.

"Jarvis, how we doing with a playlist?"

"I was able to use your parameters of 'romantic but more Sinatra and Fitzgerald than Manilow' to come up with an appropriate selection." Her tablet lit up with a list.

Glancing over she nodded, "I definitely approve, J. Very nice. Que it up. What's the ETA on the two targets?"

"Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes are twenty minutes from the Tower, Darcy."

"Well, shit," she said looking down at herself. The whole shower and pamper portion of the evening had already come and gone, but she had put on sensible clothes to cook. Now she needed to change into something a bit more...sultry.

"Shall I stall them," Jarvis asked, as she yanked off her apron.

"No. I don't think that will be necessary. But could you keep a countdown running for me?"

"Of course."

Darcy hurried to change into the sexy little number she had been saving for a special occasion. An off the shoulder dress (never strapless because boobs) that left little the imagination. It clung in all the right places and made only a bare nod at modesty. The rich royal purple color made her naturally pale skin glow. Paired with stunning red stilettos and a red pendant necklace on a silver chain that nestled in the cleft of her cleavage she was ready.

Earlier she had given thought to called Clint for makeup, but she had tossed that idea. They needed to see her naturally tonight. Well as naturally as mascara and eyeliner made her. No way was she going to go through this night without a little cosmetic assistance.

"The...targets are in the elevator, Darcy."

Taking a deep breath she told her reflection she was ready. She would not let the past ruin the wonderful life she had found here. "Thanks, Jarvis. Can you throw down some privacy mode for me?"

As the AI answered in the affirmative, she heard the doors open. Both men took exactly two steps inside before pausing. A smile was on her lips before she even rounded the corner to take in their confused faces. Two gazes focused on her instantaneously, changing the furrowed brows of confusion to wide eyes of want. "Hiya, fellas," she greeted, basking in the obvious desire radiating off them both.

They were both still in uniform, but neither was injured or even dirty. It must have been a good day at the office.

"Hey, doll," Bucky said, pulling the rifle off his back by the strap. He leaned it in the corner and stripped off his gloves before coming forward, his intense focused gaze never once leaving her. Steve was similarly stripping off weapons. First his shield and cowl, then the belt that held his knives and other equipment.

She gave them both chaste kisses before turning away with a little extra swing in her step. "Dinner will be on the table in two minutes gentlemen. I suggest a quick change."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve called to her retreating back.

She heard them whispering questions to each other about what the occasion was, but neither could come up with an answer. Darcy smiled to herself but didn't give any indication that she had heard. They had probably forgotten all together about her increased senses when faced with the possibility of having missed an important occasion. This left Darcy to fall back on the unwritten rule of women everywhere: Keep the men guessing.

Less than two minutes later they were joining her in the kitchen. Steve had gone with slacks and a silk dress shirt that had to have been tailored to him to make his chest look...like a freaking buffet. Bucky was more casual in his black jeans, but he also sported a button down with the sleeves rolled up and a distressed leather vest overtop. Damn they looked edible. Darcy felt her palms itch to run her hands over them. Later, she reminded herself. Later, she would be digging into the deliciousness that were her two boys.

For the moment, though, they sat down to dinner like respectable adults. Which was strange considering the thoughts Darcy had about pulling up her dress and sitting on Bucky's lap. Or maybe running her tongue along Steve's collar where the shirt was buttoned far too high.

"It all looks lovely, sweetheart," Steve said as he filled his plate. "How long did you work on this?"

"It does look good," Bucky agreed. "But what Steve really mean to ask is if there's a particular reason for this spread?"

Suppressed laughter had her lips twitching and eyes sparkling. "Oh there's always a reason, Soldier. But you two didn't miss an anniversary or anything so relax. I wanted to do something nice. If you don't like it though I can go throw on some sweats and -"

There was emphatic 'No' from them both, which made her chuckle.

The conversation was natural after that. The boys shared the anecdotes from the day, and avoided the classified things that would endanger her. (Pepper was working on getting both their and Jane's security clearance raised as all three of them were already in the middle of the Avengers shenanigans, but until it happened they were playing by the rules.) She told them about training with Natasha and about Jane freaking out about her upcoming science conference.

Before long both of them were looking at her expectantly. Their plates were clear and they weren't reaching for seconds though she knew they could pack away far more. Not that she was complaining about them wrapping this up.

"Would you like desert," she asked casually as she rose from her place. Bucky eyed her speculatively, even as Steve shook his head. "You sure?" She stepped away toward the hall as she looked over her shoulder for confirmation.

They were both out of their chairs before she could escape around the corner. Her laughter rang in the air as she backed away from them down the hall, her hands held up in prevent them from approaching. "Now fellas. I don't know what kind of girl you think I am, but that was not an invitation for something...carnal in nature." Her lips quivered while she tried to give a prim disapproving expression, which completely failed.

"Our mistake," Steve said pausing in his pursuit, hand on Bucky to stop him too. "You heard the lady, Buck. It wasn't an invitation. Means we'll have to take care of each other."

Darcy's hands settled on her hips with indignation. "Steven Grant Rogers! I can't believe you would leave lady in the cold."

Steve smirked as he closed the distance between them. "Never," he told her as he swooped down and tossed her over his shoulder.

Darcy felt that the strangled noise of surprise that escaped her was as dignified as she could hope for in the moment, but it still had the men laughing. "Really funny, Rogers," she said as she thumped him on the back with her fist.

In the bedroom, he released her from his hold, sliding her down over his front. She could feel every inch of his hard frame against her, and her dress inched higher on her thighs as it snagged slightly on the fabric of his clothes. Abruptly the mood changed from good-natured teasing to potent need.

Bucky's heat hit her from behind as his hands on her hips steadied her when her stilettos sunk into the thick carpet. His lips were on her neck, his breath on her skin. Steve claimed her lips, one hand on her cheek. They pulled her down into the fog, muddled her mind with the haze of desire. Their touches were tender and sweet, but she struggled to keep some sliver of herself from full surrender.

This time she would give as good as she got. She touched them with adoration as well as need. In every moment, she tried to show them the sentiment that was screaming through her soul. She would be sure to show them this even if the words got buried in the heat of the moment...again.

In the afterglow, Darcy lay between them. Her body loose and relaxed. Her hair a mess from their fingers. She was happy to just lay there for the rest of her life if they boys agreed. Seriously sex had never been this good before.

The air that blew across her skin was blessedly cool, and it helped her to focus her mind. There were still things to tell them. If there was one time in her life when she wanted to have the perfect words, it was now. Of course, her mind choose that moment to throw up the most intense mental block she had ever come across. It was a brick wall covered in vibranium. Thanks brain, she thought caustically.

So Darcy fell back on her humor as she always did. "That was the most intense sex I've had in my life. No way it could be better. Which means I have to break up with you, since after this it's all downhill."

They froze beside her, tensing in a way that told her they weren't seeing the joke.

Immediately, she was up on her knees, spinning around to face them. Gesturing a bit wildly as she tried to backtrack. "Okay, that didn't come out quite the way I was intending. I mean the sex _was _great. Don't get me wrong. But I know it can be better." There was pause while she digested what she had said. "Not what I meant!" Covering her face with her hands to keep from seeing their expressions, she gave an aggravated growl. "I officially suck at this," she mumbled into her palms.

Bucky chuckled while Steve tried to rescue her from choking on her own embarrassment. "We understand what you meant, sweetheart."

"No," she said with force. "No," she repeated more softly. "I mean yes, the sex was fabulous and I'm not breaking up with either of you. Not by a long shot. But I was trying to say - in my terribly pathetic roundabout bad-humor laden way - is that I know things between us are amazing. But I also know that _we_**,**" she emphasised by circling her finger around their small huddle, "can be even better."

Her heart hiccuped in her chest but she held tight to her resolve. She need to have the words out there in the ether. To give them to the universe as an offering of thanks for blessing her with these men.

"I love you, Steven Rogers. And I love you, James Barnes. And I don't know what I ever did to deserve you both, but you're stuck with me now. No returns. No exchanges."


	26. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Let me get this straight," Jane began setting down her margarita and leaning forward. "You quoted a children's movie during your long-awaited declaration of love."

Darcy pouted, eyes on the drink in her hand. "Shut up. I never should have told any of you." She took another sip, glancing around at the gathered women in her apartment. "I don't think they even noticed. And really it was like half a quote. At most. Plus they both liked that movie. Steve especially liked the reindeer."

Maria smirked. "I think I'm more impressed that you quoted a movie about endless winter to a couple of men who were quite literally frozen for years."

Darcy felt the blood rushing to her face. "Oh Christ. I'm a horrible person."

That got a laugh from the whole gathering, even Natasha.

"You're not a horrible person," Pepper assured her as she sipped at her martini.

"Why are we even talking about this? I didn't call a code red." It was true. She had been minding her own business, getting more clothes from her apartment to take up to the boy's floor, when the other four women had barged in with booze.

"No one said you did," Natasha retorted.

Darcy eyed each of them, but no one seemed particularly upset. Pepper was curled up in the recliner, her shoes on the floor and her suit jacket tossed over the back. Jane and Maria were on opposite ends of the couch, both looking relaxed in jeans and uniform respectively. Natasha was standing between everyone and the kitchen doing a series of slow stretches in her workout gear. It seemed like they all had dropped whatever they were in the middle of to be here, but she couldn't spot why. "Okay, I give. Who called it?"

Pepper raised her glass in a small salute, before downing the rest. Without prompting Natasha took the empty and went to refill it.

"Did Stark blow up something expensive again?"

Pepper chuckled. "No." She took a deep breath. "Since the Ultron fiasco, he's been having a hard time forgiving himself. Again. But he still thinks he was in the right as well. Age is starting to catch up to him. I think he feels it looking right over his shoulder. And he's afraid that when he has to put away the suit for good, he won't have done enough. He doesn't think there will be others on hand to take up the good fight. "

There was silence for a moment.

Accepting a fresh drink from Natasha, Pepper took a sip. "He's a man with many layers," she finally continued.

"Like an onion," Darcy said sagely. Apparently quoting children's movies was her go-to thing now.

Jane snorted and picked up her margarita again.

Natasha came over and squeezed in beside her on the loveseat that had magically appeared at some point. It somehow matched the rest of the random decor and made the whole place seem more refurbished-chic than broke-college-student.

Pepper smiled tiredly. "Very much like an onion."  
Shifting, Darcy put her legs up on Natasha's lap. The redhead retaliated by practically laying down on her, her head resting on Darcy's stomach. It didn't look very comfortable but who was she to judge.

The song on the speakers changed to something with a slower tempo, as a moment of silence passed between them all.

"Not that I'm complaining," Darcy broke in, "but why exactly are we having girl's night here if I didn't call it?"

"Because I plan on turning your apartment into a women only area for us to get a break from all the testosterone. After you move in with Steve and James, of course," Pepper said matter-of-factly.

"Of course," Darcy echoed. "What do you mean of course?"

Natasha scoffed and looked up at her from beneath her lashes. "Like you aren't already practically moved in."

"There's a pool on when Steve is gonna pop the question," Maria added. "Only those with clearance are in it," she added when Tasha shot her a concerned look.

"Oh my god. Seriously? I only just admitted to loving them and you all have a bet going for when they're going to propose?"

"The bet is only about Steve proposing," Jane clarified. Darcy shot her a betrayed look, which she returned with a shrug. "What? You know Steve's the more traditional one. And besides I was going to split the winnings with you if I took the pot."

"I can't believe this is my life," Darcy said shaking her head. The others laughed and the conversation changed focus to Jane and Thor's relationship thanks to Tasha's helpful interference.

Darcy watched their banter with a happy smile which she hid in her margarita. This was her life and, no matter how she grumbled, she wouldn't have it any other way.


	27. Deleted Scene 1

These following chapters are small scenes that played around in my head but didn't make the final cut.  
More for my own amusement than any other purpose. These have not been beta'd so all mistakes are mine. Also they are not in any sort of chronological order, but I will try to let you know where they fall on in relation to original story.

**This scene is from Sam's POV and takes place in the middle of Chapter 9.**

Sam Wilson had always loved blueberries. He could remember his grandma making blueberry pie for his birthday all through elementary school. Flaky golden crust filled with warm gooey goodness. Even after his beloved Gram had died, his momma had made sure to bake a true homemade blueberry pie with her old recipe every year.

When he bit into the sweet crumbly blueberry muffin, which he'd snatched from the plastic container in the common kitchen for the Avengers' Tower, he had a fleeting sense memory of his Gram's wrinkled hand patting his cheek. However, it was quickly swept away by the strength of hunger. He had been stuck in a truck with Captain America for more than twenty-four hours with only the snacks they'd had on hand. Mostly protein bars and beef jerky. (Which meant that he felt absolutely no guilt in tossing back two muffins before he even came up for air to compliment their maker.)

He was currently in the swanky abode of Tony Stark eating delicious baked goods made by a delectable looking young woman who had introduced herself as Darcy Lewis. And boy what an introduction that had been. The dark haired beauty had nearly toppled Steve with her enthusiastic greeting.

Watching the interplay between Darcy and the good Captain had sparked the wheels turning in his mind. The two were friendly, but not at ease with each other. Something had happened, and his gut told him it had definitely been the Steve who had fumbled. Rogers might be poetry in motion with his shield, but he had about as much grace as a dog in roller skates when it came to women. He admired them. Respected them. Hell he practically swooned over a competent, take-charge, smart-mouthed woman (Sam had gathered all of this from listening to Steve's stories about Peggy Carter, of course), but he had a hard time charming them. Unlike his missing buddy, Barnes (who Sam had also heard _a lot_ of stories about), who could slip up a dame's skirt with nothing more than his smirk. The guy was a real 'dish'. That right there was a direct quote, folks. Straight from Steve Roger's all-American mouth.

Sam had his suspicions that Steve wasn't what the Bible Belt would consider wholesome, but Sam had no problems with however Steve swung. His best friend, his partner (in the platonic sense), had been rather fluid on his gender preferences and Sam had never had a problem standing shoulder to shoulder with Riley.

However, Sam was definitely a heterosexual male. One who was very interested in the sweet baker who had hustled herself out of the kitchen as fast as her coffee-fueled legs would carry her.

Glancing at Steve's stiff back, he wondered what the good Captain had done now.

Two weeks later, he had a better idea of what exactly Rogers had done...and what he was currently doing. When he didn't realize people were watching, Rogers had eyes for Darcy alone. He watched her with this pathetic look of longing and guilt. Being the best wingman (fully flight capable) that God had ever made, Sam had given a shot to pushing Steve to ask her out. However, the blond was stubborn.

Whenever Sam ran into Darcy over the course of those two weeks, she was bubbly and brash. A mix he found he was really digging. So when he finally gave in to the fact that Steve was not going to act on his seeming attraction, Sam decided to take a swing.

Darcy hadn't even hesitated in her response.

Their first date had been fun. The conversation had been friendly, flirty, and at times hilarious. She was bundle of sass tied up with an outrageous bow.

Before they had gotten back to the car from their dinner date, Sam had a pretty good idea that Darcy and himself weren't going to go much further. He knew she was a woman comfortable with sex, thanks to her many innuendos and suggestive comments. But he wasn't feeling that spark. There was attraction, on his part. Yet he didn't think Darcy was into it with her whole heart. Sam knew better than to jump between the sheets with her if she was as gone on Steve as he was on her. It would only lead to regret for her and awkwardness between them. He liked her too much to risk that.

However, he couldn't help taking one more shot. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to a stop on the deserted sidewalk.

"I've had a really good time tonight," he told her.

Her smile bloomed. "I did too."

He took a half step closer and saw her eyes widen with understanding. She met him with her own step, laying a hand on his shoulder.

He leaned in slowly, meeting her lips gently, his free hand sliding over her hip. He took his time, drawing her in. She followed his lead, but she wasn't pushing forward.

When he pulled back, the smile she gave him was tinged with regret. He matched it. "Well that's unfortunate."

She took a step back but didn't pull back her hand from his. "No kidding. I was totally up for trying some dark chocolate."

He turned with a laugh and pulled her along beside him. "I think you'll live without it."


End file.
